Pretty Blue Eyes
by A-Simple-Rainbow
Summary: When Blaine takes the bus a stranger with pretty blue eyes and talented hands turns his head upside down and into a mess as he understand that he's drawn to the last person he should ever feel attracted to.
1. Chapter 1

**My small contribution for Klaine Week (Tuesday: AU)**

xXxXxXx

Blaine caught a sniff of something deliciously fresh and yet so sweet, and he just had to pull his eyes away from his book to see someone shuffling between Blaine and the row of seats before him. Blaine was reminded of that Brad Pitt comment on Fight Club about etiquette: "do I give you the ass or the crotch?". Well, this person, man, probably a man… well, this man had chosen to give him the ass – which Blaine was more than ok with, as far as etiquette goes – as he made his way to sit down opposite Blaine on the bus. Blaine had never thought he'd have an opinion on the sitting display on buses, but lo and behold, here was Blaine, glad that some buses did have sits facing each other, rather than all of them facing the front.

He felt this way because the man with the very nice smell, the very nice pants and the very nice ass had now sat down right in front of Blaine and boy had a very nice everything. Those high cheek bones; that crystal clear, perfectly pale skin, with just the right amount of pink to his cheeks; those amazingly blue eyes; that perfectly coiffed hair; and those deliciously looking lips; that adorable little no- _Oh, shit, I'm staring!_

Blaine returned to his book, but he could've read the word 'breakfast' twenty times and it would still not stick. His brain was much more busy memorizing that guy's face. It really didn't help that his scent continued its assault on Blaine's nose. A delicious and totally welcome assault. Blaine was proud of how long he could take it before he let his eyes wander off again and find the guy. _Oh shit, he's looking at me!_

Pretty Blue Eyes was probably thinking he was an idiot right now, especially because he'd been staring at the same paragraph for way too much time to be considered normal. _Oh great, so now I look like I'm retarded!_

Maybe he should check… Just make sure the guy wasn't looking at Blaine like he was an idiot. So he chanced another glance, and like before, their eyes met. This time, however, Blaine didn't look away and held his gaze. _How very brave of you, Blaine!_ Pretty Blue Eyes was smiling now, he was smiling. It was small, and it was kind of teasing, but it was a smile, and it was directed at Blaine.

_YES! Yes, yes! Ok, now, play it cool! Tease back! Don't make a fool of yourself, Blaine. You can do this. You can flirt with the sexy guy, you can do it._

Before he knew it, though, Blaine was returning it, full on. Bright and wide. And eager.

And ridiculous.

And he was waving.

Pretty Blue Eyes chuckled quietly, a small blush coloring his cheeks, and looked away, digging his hand deeper into his jackets' pockets and sat straighter (if such a thing was possible). Blaine felt as his face became scorching hot and he pocketed the stupid hand that had broken free of its own will. Well, if he hadn't looked like an idiot before, he certainly had now.

Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It took him a few seconds to open them again, but when he did there was a crotch right in front of them. Pretty Blue Eyes was shuffling through, again. The bus slowed down suddenly and the jolt threw him off balance and Blaine found himself practically hugged by Pretty Blue Eyes.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" He gasped as he pulled himself straight. _Oh, god, his voice!_

"Don't worry." Blaine mumbled, cheeks burning up.

"I really didn't meant to come onto you so hard… and quite this literally." he smiled, and winked and Blaine was pretty sure he'd just died. He'd winked. Pretty Blue Eyes had winked!

Blaine watched him go awestruck. His brain couldn't really function and process what had just happened. Did Pretty Blues Eyes actually flirt with him? Was he imagining all of this? Would it be incredibly creepy if he started taking this bus at this time everyday in an attempt to see him again?

He nearly missed his stop just thinking about all of this. He jogged to the coffee shop. He was already late for his next appointment, but he needed the caffeine. Once ordered, the cashier asked him for 2.99 and he reached for his wallet, only to find an empty pocket.

"What…?" he checked every single pocket in a frenzied mess of hands. Still nothing. Maybe he'd forgotten it at home. No, he'd used it to pay the bus fare. Maybe he'd dropped it somewhere, even if he kept it safely breast pocket. Maybe he… wait… _NO! NO! no! No….! No…!_

"Well, fuck."

A week later found Blaine sitting at the bus stop, bored as hell, waiting for the apparently lost bus. He still didn't have his new driver's license, so, even though his car had already returned from the shop, he couldn't drive. Damn Pretty Blue Eyes! Damn him and his distracting seductive techniques.

If only Blaine could find him! If only he were to pass by right now! If only that really well dressed guy leaving that building right across the street with a very attractive sway to his hips and shoulders as he turned the street into a true catwalk was him. If only… _Wait… what?_

"What the…" Blaine gasped before jumping out the bench and started to make his way over to the guy. A loud engine noise and a glance over his shoulder and Blaine knew the bus had finally arrived. _But of course!_ He sighed as he continued towards the man and ignored the bus.

He finally caught up with Pretty Blue Eyes. He was wondering how he should approach him when he stopped at the small queue for a newsstand. Blaine stood right next to him and cleared his throat carefully.

"You know, people ought to be careful with their pockets…"

The guy frowned slightly, throwing a sideways glance at Blaine, barely seeing him, before turning his head back to the front.

"You just can't ever know when someone might just put their hands in there and take your wallet… with your license and your credit card and your money for that coffee you really needed." He continued easily "And you know, the thing is, they really are so good at not letting you notice anything!"

"What… oh… god!" Pretty Blue Eyes gasped as he recognized Blaine and comprehension dawned on his face "Alright… You're right, I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, you are. I want it back."

"I can't, I don't have it anymore…" Pretty Blue Eyes gasped "God, what will I do? You won't get me arrested, will you? Oh, please! I'll do anything…"

"Anything?"

"Anything… I promise! You look like someone who likes a good charity case. I could be that, you could teach me how to be a better person and then we'd fall in love and have so much sex and maybe even get married and have kids, but never really tell them how we met, because…"

Wait. Wait. Wait. So, yeah, in Blaine's head that was what was going to happen. But things always were much cooler in his head. When it was time to actually do something it was a bit more like this:

"Hey!"

Pretty Blue Eyes turned to look at him, frowning and confused. "Yes…?"

"You stole my wallet!" Blaine barked. _Yes, just like that, Blaine, cool and collected._

"I…" He looked around as people started to look "I most certainly did not!"

"Yeah, yeah you did! You tripped and fell on me on the bus last week and next thing I know I've got no wallet!"

"This is ridiculous!" He gasped, holding onto his bag strap and starting to walk away, Blaine following him.

"I'm sure! You flirted with me to get me distracted!"

"This is absurd!" his face was scorching red "I've never been this humiliated! Honestly!"

"Don't play dumb!"

"I'm not!" he nearly shouted, continuing walking away fast paced "I just tend to be confused when some random guy makes wild accusations!"

"Wild…? Come on! I'm sure it was you! Even if you hadn't stolen my wallet I'd still remember your face because…" _Oh god, shut up Blaine!_

Pretty Blue Eyes stopped dead on his tracks and Blaine almost crashed against him again "Listen, random guy who thinks I stole his wallet. I don't steal. I make my own honest living. Look at me… Look at my clothes, do I look like someone who needs to steal people's wallets?"

Ok, so maybe he had a point. "That… It… You… It was you, I'm sure!"

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yeah!"

"Ok, let's say, hypothetically, I did. What then?"

"Well… I want it back, and… and I'm taking you to the police." Blaine said, holding his chin up, trying to look as sure of himself as he could. _That'll show him!_

Pretty Blue Eyes stared at him for a second. Then he burst out laughing. Like, literally, burst out laughing, bending over and clutching to his sides. Holding out a hand in front of himself, as an excusal. Blaine crossed his arms. He wanted to be annoyed and outraged, but he just ended up feeling utterly embarrassed.

"You… police! Oh…precious!"

"What?" Blaine rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the heat overtaking his face.

Pretty Blue Eyes took a few calming breaths, straightening up and readjusting his jacket before turning back to Blaine and smiling "You want to go to the Police and press charges?"

"Yes…"

"Oh, honey…" he shook his head and looked at him like he was some five year old realizing that Santa wasn't real. "Honey!"

"Listen, Pret- Huh… pret-t-tensious little sneaky thieve, I want my wallet back." Even Blaine cringed at his poor effort at an insult. It was even worse when, like him, you knew it'd started out as anything but an insult. But I guess calling the guy who stole your wallet Pretty Blue Eyes wasn't all that good or normal, was it?

"And I want a two story, ten room apartment with a luscious, though modern and minimalistic decoration, but that isn't happening either..."

"What do you mean? What did you do with my wallet?"

"I told you, I didn't steal it."

"Yeah, and I don't believe you."

"Skepticism has lost its charm, don't you think? Honestly, person whose wallet I allegedly took, let me tell you how things work in the real world. When someone takes your wallet you can bet your sweet behind that the next day they don't have it anymore, for sure. And you can also bet that same sweet behind that the police won't give a rat's ass, and you want to know why? Because you could never prove it that I took it."

"So you admit it?"

"No, I told you how these things work out and that you can't prove I did it. I don't think anywhere there I admitted to anything other than the fact that I find your behind to be very sweet." He winked and turned around, just like the last time.

"What the fuck!" Blaine called after him "I need it! I had important documents there!"

He stopped and turned back to Blaine with a half annoyed look "Listen, give it up, ok? You getting your wallet back, never going to happen. Just cancel the credit cards, get yourself a pretty new license and go wallet shopping."

"There! You admit it!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! What are you? Five?" he rolled his eyes and sighed "I did not admit to anything. How do you know my wallet wasn't stolen three times in the last five months and that's why I know how it all works, huh? Listen, I'd really love to stay and discuss pick pocketing methods and whatnot but I've got classes to attend. I don't have the time, the energy or the patience right now…"

What? This person is a student? He goes to classes? He's… just that much of a normal person? But… but… but… it doesn't make sense. "You're… you… how…" Blaine attempted to start a question too many times to not be considered pathetic, before he finally gave up and tried to look menacing "I could just follow you and find out where you study and pester you until you admit to it!"

Blaine could see the boy regret saying he was a student immediately but he quickly recovered, not letting go of his annoyed stance "Yes, you could, but, alas, that could be considered stalking and I'm quite sure the hundreds of students that would see you everyday near my campus would be very good witnesses in my request for a restraining order. As you've noticed, that would be the difference between my allegation and yours – I can prove mine, you can't prove yours."

"What are you? A Law student?" Blaine wrinkled his nose.

"No. Just someone with a brain."

"Ok… ok… I'm… Listen, you don't look like the type of person to go around stealing wallets… what… do you need help?"

Pretty Blue Eyes looked at him taken aback, at first he almost seemed touched or confused by Blaine's words, but that wasn't even a split second and then he just glared at him. Blaine was honestly scared at first, he almost expected him to throw a punch or something, but then he merely turned around and stalked off.

Blaine watched him go and kept his mouth shut, finally.

What was even worse was that he still couldn't keep his eyes away from that guy's figure as he walked away – he truly looked like he was walking on a catwalk. Blaine sighed as he turned the corner and disappeared, releasing Blaine from his spell. So that went well.

That was the story of Blaine's life: being made a fool of. Although this version was a new one… the stuttering, idiot and dumb fool. Usually it was just that people used and abused him because he was so_ nice_ all the time and he had this stupid urge to try to help everyone and fit in everywhere, and in the end he was just left there feeling like a fool for trusting or investing so much into those people.

But this, this was new… and… a little bit better. Pretty Blue Eyes didn't want to use Blaine when he could have so clearly done so. All he would have needed to do was say 'I'm so sorry, I'm so lost in my life, won't you please help me find my way' and Blaine would've been paying his rent in a matter of two months (I wish that was an exaggeration). But no, he had actually pushed Blaine away. Sure, he had been kind of mean and kind of humiliated him… and yet, Blaine didn't feel bad or angry at him.

_Ok, so maybe I should be worried about my sanity._

How is someone not mad at the person who stole their wallet? And then proceeded to insult in every way possible?

Just… how? Blaine? How…?

Because, for the first time, someone could truly use Blaine's help but wasn't asking for it at all.

For some reason, Blaine wished he'd get to see Pretty Blue Eyes again.

He did, too, two weeks afterwards. He'd almost forgotten about it, only remembering during a particularly long shower, or when the red light ran for too long. But the moment he'd spotted Pretty Blue Eyes everything came back full force. He'd just sat at a coffee table, cup in one hand and book in the other. He'd scanned the place real quick and his eyes found him right in front of him, two tables away. As if on cue Pretty Blue Eyes lifted his eyes from his own book right then.

As their eyes met Blaine knew he recognized him, too. There was mixture of expression flickering through his face in a split second. Surprise, annoyance, apprehension… and Blaine's favorite – the one that had made Pretty Blue Eyes' lips turn into a discreet, tight smile – amusement.

Blaine's hand shot up of its own accord in an awkward wave. Pretty Blue Eyes raised an eyebrow before chuckling lightly and returning to his own book with a little headshake. A blush came over Blaine's cheeks as he took a sip from his medium drip and opened his book. He couldn't focus on the words, though. All he could think about was the man sitting across from him, about what would he say if he'd just get the nerve to go there and talk to him.

His eyes couldn't stay on the paper and he found himself staring at that person. Would it really be that stupid if he asked him out?

Pretty Blue Eyes looked up and their eyes met once more. This time he didn't chuckle, he didn't raise an eyebrow, or crack a teasing smile, he didn't even look annoying. He just bit his lip ever so slightly, sent a split second glance around the coffee shop and returned to the book, his cheeks a shade darker.

Blaine couldn't help it anymore, maybe it was how he suddenly looked a little nervous, maybe it was just simply his insane beauty, maybe it was the fact that he was reading one of Blaine's favorite books… Blaine got up and in two quick movements he'd sat himself right in front of Pretty Blue Eyes.

"Hi."

He sighed before lifting his eyes and offering an inquisitive bitch glare, his veneer of cold detachment back on "Hi."

"I'm Blaine."

"Ok." He rolled his eyes and landed them back on his book.

He was starting to regret this now "I don't really care that you stole my wallet, anymore."

"I didn't." He shrugged without looking at Blaine.

"I just… I think I wanna take you out on a date."

His head shot up to give Blaine the most expressive 'what the fuck' look "What?"

"I just do…" Blaine shrugged "I'm not very good at this flirting thing, so bear with me… I think it's the fact that you're like a breath of fresh air in my life, because you're not trying to use me and take advantage of my idiotic personality like everybody else in my life." Blaine scratched his head and added "I don't even know why I'm telling you this…"

"Wait, hold on a sec." he straightened himself on his chair and put his book down, but was careful to keep it wide open, the right page well marked "So you're saying I stole your wallet but never took advantage of you?"

"Hmmm"

"Either I did take your wallet by taking advantage of how love struck you seemed at the time and flirting shamelessly to provide distraction, or I didn't take your wallet and really did trip over my own feet falling onto you and taking advantage of the moment itself to flirt shamelessly with you. You can't have both."

"I never thought of it that way…"

"Right…" He smiled, rolling his eyes and picking his book back up.

"So, let's assume, for argument's sake, then, that you did not take my wallet…" Blaine said at once, not wanting him to go back to his book "Would you go out with me then?" he leaned forward slightly, a puppy look taking over his nervous face.

"But then your whole reasoning for breath of fresh airs flies out the window…" he smirked.

Blaine shrugged, slightly embarrassed "Well, then. It's not just that. You're… I… You've got something about you."

"You're insane… Just a couple of weeks ago you wanted to bring me in to the police!"

"I… I've nicknamed you." Blaine waited for him to urge him forward, ask for the nickname, but he remained stoic, staring at Blaine, so he continued without prompting, his face beet red "Pretty Blue Eyes."

Pretty Blue Eyes raised an eyebrow and Blaine swore there was a flicker of a smile, and a ghost of a blush.

"But it's big… it's three words… so it's a lot of trouble to say it… or think it… or whatever. So, I was wondering what was your name."

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Oh…" Blaine mumbled, lowering his eyes to stare purposefully at his fidgeting hands.

He heard a sigh "Ok, let's say for argument's sake I did steal your wallet. You look like a nice, honest living kind of guy. Why would you ever take someone like me out on a date?"

Blaine snapped his head up. Pretty Blue Eyes was asking him a question, a meaningful one… he was engaging in conversation and he wasn't just flat out refusing. "I'm… a sucker, which is why everyone always takes advantage of me… for charity cases, and my first instinct with you was to want to help you get back on your feet, make an honest man of yourself…"

"I don't need your charity." He frowned, holding his head higher.

"Let me finish…" Blaine grimaced realizing how he'd sounded "but then I got to thinking about how you seemed like exactly the kind of person who doesn't want any help at all. I offered you help and you refused, when you could've just as easily as you stole my wallet have me paying for a lunch willingly."

"Your point being?"

"We're the exact opposite of our comfort zones, aren't we?" Blaine shrugged. Now that he was putting his thoughts into words he was managing to free himself a little bit more "I mean, I'm used to jumping from charity case to charity case… all I do is try to fix things and people… and when they're fixed they usually just up and leave me because I apparently have nothing else to offer than my obvious lack of a backbone."

"Why are you telling a complete stranger all of this? Are you looking to get yourself killed?"

Blaine ignored the question, continuing undisturbed "You, on the other hand, are used to keeping everyone far away – you don't want to need help. Am I right?"

Pretty Blue Eyes stared back, hard and unwavering, and the lack of answer was all the answer Blaine needed.

"So maybe we're exactly right for each other."

"That's a nice theory you got there, Blaine. Did you hear all about it on Oprah?" his voice was suddenly dripping with resentment and Blaine knew he'd stepped in it. "I didn't steal your wallet, but if I had I'd be offended by the idea that that means I need anyone's help whether you're offering or not."

"Are you saying you steal wallets for fun?"

"I'm saying I won't go on a date with you." he shot Blaine a glare before snatching up his book and his bag and stomping out the coffee shop.

_Well, shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Blaine saw Pretty Blue Eyes he hadn't forgotten him at all. The angry tone and the resentment had stuck with him and Blaine wondered how much of a condescending douche he'd come across as. He was on a date and all he could think about was how much he'd rather this be Pretty Blue Eyes, and not Jason the hot Personal Trainer his friend Lillian had set him up with.

Well, it wasn't just that he'd rather be with Pretty Blue Eyes. Really, he'd rather be with anyone. Jason was… well, dumb. And boring. And, one too many times, flat out offensive.

He was trying to focus on his piece of cake, not bothering to register Jason's voice, when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.

"Blaine?" a voice asked with surprise and enthusiasm and Blaine looked up to find the last person he'd thought he'd see.

"Pret-Hey!" Nice.

"I'm so happy I found you!" He gasped "We've been looking for you forever, why is your cell phone off?"

"Huh… my…" It took Blaine a few seconds before he knew what was happening and it took him a lot not to break into the widest of smiles "I'm on a date, so…"

"I know, I did find you, didn't I? I just thought it wasn't one of those 'turn your cell phone off' kind of dates. Didn't know it was that serious."

"Oh, well…"

"You are needed, anyway." he sighed "at the hospital. My sister went into labor and she will kill someone if her cutie of a sperm donor isn't there to witness the gore."

"Oh… Oh! Oh my God!" He gasped, getting up at once and taking out his wallet to pull out a couple of bills "I'm sorry, Jason, I gotta run. This was nice. I'll call you some day. Here." He handed him the cash before he turned, pressing a hand to Pretty Blue Eye's back and starting to walk away as fast as he could. They stopped as soon as they rounded the corner.

"You looked like you were having the time of your life, back there. I couldn't help myself, I'm a born killjoy." Pretty Blue Eyes smirked.

"Oh, yeah, I was falling in love with him, alright." Blaine half groaned, sarcasm dripping freely.

"So, empty headed and tidbit racist… not your type, huh?"

"No, definitely no." He chuckled "How do you know that, though?"

"I was sitting at the booth next to yours." He shrugged starting to walk and Blaine followed "I had fun, for the most part, but then I took pity on you."

"Yeah, thank you. I'm forever in your debt."

"Don't mention it."

"I thought you'd still be mad at me."

"For…?"

"What I said…"

"Oh. That." He shrugged "I thought about it. You were being nice. A little condescending and judgmental, but nice. And I overreacted a little."

Blaine chanced a smile "Does this mean you'll consider going on a date with me?"

"Would this count as a date?"

"If I knew your name…"

Pretty Blue Eyes smiled and nodded "So Blaine, what do you do for a living?"

They walked and talked for a good while. Pretty Blue Eyes would always find a way not to give out his name or anything too personal, but that didn't stop the conversation from flowing smoothly and effortlessly. Blaine made his best attempt at keeping it from pick pocketing and after ten minutes he really didn't even have to try – there was a world of other things they could talk about and he was barely remembering that his wallet had ever been stolen in the first place.

"The only time I ever tried to do something wrong fate stepped in to stop me. There was this girl in my class that baked the best cupcakes and she hated my guts, for some reason. So, she was having a bake sale to raise money for Prom and I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to embarrass her in front of everyone. Imagine her horror when the cupcakes she'd bragged about all month long turned out to taste like crap. Right? So I grab my apron, my bowl and my spatula and I get myself baking, adding a spoonful of salt to ever two spoons of sugar and instead of cinnamon I put pepper. And it would've worked too, but I stepped out of the kitchen for five minutes and the thing bursts into flames! My oven burst into flames!"

"Oh my god!"

"I know! I nearly fainted!" Blaine laughed, remembering his panic.

"That's not fate stepping in, that's just you sucking at baking!"

"I haven't cooked a meal since. But I'm still convinced it was life teaching me a valuable lesson. I haven't even thought of ever sabotaging anyone again!"

"I once got a friend of mine to dress up in that terrible leather cat suit from Grease and wear it on a date with the boy she really liked, because I liked him too. I was born sabotage."

"And you call her a friend?"

"Well, we became friends after that. At the time she wasn't a friend. In fact I spent most of my time fantasizing about sticking tube socks down her throat."

"That's horrible!"

"Not as horrible as her fashion sense. It was a daily assault on my eyes. It would've been self-defense, really."

"Oh, well, in _that _case!"

Blaine was about to ask if they were going to walk much longer and if he wanted to maybe go somewhere more specific rather than wonder aimlessly when Pretty Blue Eyes stopped, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another "Hmm… so this is… almost my street… So…"

"Oh… right."

"This was nice, Blaine. You're nice, when you're not being pretentious and condescending."

"Thanks, I guess…" He chuckled "Do you want me to walk you to your door."

"That would kind of defeat the purpose of me stopping you here and refusing to give you my name, now, wouldn't it?"

"Right…" Blaine mumbled, blushing slightly and raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

Kurt smiled warm and honest before sighing "Well, good night, Blaine." He said softly, clapping a hand to Blaine's shoulder, lingering just a bit more before turning around and starting to walk away. Before Blaine knew what he was doing he was calling after him.

"Hey wait! Wait!"

He turned, smiling slightly "Yeah?"

"That day… that… first day. You flirted with me. Was that just a distraction, or did you…?"

"Mean it?"

"Yeah…"

"Both." He half shrugged before widening his smile and adding "I really did find you handsome and endearingly cute in a 'too good to be real' kind of way, because you seemed like you'd just stepped out of a romantic comedy." He chuckled.

Blaine was so caught up in those words he didn't even notice that, for the first time, Pretty Blue Eyes had slipped up and admitted to his crime "So… why'd you do it, then? Why did you just steal my wallet? Why didn't you talk to me, or give me your number instead. _Obviously_ I was interested."

"I…" He sank his hands in his pocket and looked around awkwardly "That… That kind of thing… doesn't happen to me."

"What kind of thing?"

"The handsome, bashful and_ oh so nice _kind of guy… he doesn't fall for me. Or at least not after he gets to know me." He shrugged.

"Don't you think he should get a say in it?" Blaine chanced a small smile and step forward "I'm getting to know you, and I like you, so far."

"So far." Pretty Blue Eyes shrugged with a smirk that hid away any hint of bitterness "Good night, Blaine." He turned and walked away.

"Good night, Pretty Blue Eyes!" He called after him, and Blaine could see him dropping his head with laughter and his body warmed a little at that.

He was floating the whole way back home, and it was only when he sat on his couch contemplating his memories that he realized. He still knew nothing about him, except for where was his _almost _street, the coffee shop he hopefully attended and the bus that he, again, hopefully took regularly. What good was it that they had a kind of date where they got along fantastically well if there was no way he could know for sure there'd be a follow-up.

He sank in his couch and groaned.

A week later he was stopped on a red light, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel when someone crossing the road caught his eyes. Pretty Blue Eyes looked over just in time for their eyes to meet. As Blaine's heart skipped a beat in surprise, Pretty Blue Eyes stopped, if only of for a second, hesitating in his confident walk – he held Blaine's eyes and smiled, honest and amused, illuminating his eyes with life. But then the light turned green and behind Blaine cars starting blowing their horns and Pretty Blue Eyes was startled out of his thoughts and shot Blaine a quick wave before running to the sidewalk.

That afternoon Blaine decided to take matters into his own hands rather than leave it to chance. After work he went up to that coffee place and he walked straight to the counter "What can I get you?" the girl in the uniform asked.

"A medium drip, please."

"Will that be all?"

"Yes… I was wondering, though, if you could tell me something."

"That'll be three fifty." She informed "What would you like to know?"

Blaine handed her the money as he spoke "I have a guy in my… hm… class, and I needed to borrow his notes, I've been told he takes very good notes – but he hasn't been to class lately, and I don't know where else to look, I saw him here once. Maybe he comes here often…? He's tall and lean, he's got brown hair, usually carefully styled. And he's very pale and has blue eyes." Describing him in such a way was not only challenging but painful. It was like describing a sunset at the beach with empirical precision rather than poetic passion.

"I'm sorry, sir, but a lot of guys fill that description."

"He wears expensive designer clothes…?"

"I'm sorry." She shook her head.

"And he's got this really soft, clear voice…?" was this bordering on poetic? Probably.

"Sir, I really don't know, and there's a line forming now."

Blaine blushed and nodded taking his change.

"Oh, don't mind me!" the familiar voice said from behind him "I always do enjoy a good case of stalking! Maybe I could help."

"Oh!"Blaine gasped, blushing to the tip of his hears.

"You're incredibly articulate today." His tone was casual, but the amusement shone a little in his voice before he turned to the girl at the register "A grand non fat mocha, please." Blaine received his drink as Pretty Blue Eyes paid for his. "So, you know my usual coffee house and you know my neighborhood. It's getting a little too close for my liking."

"Why? What do you think I'm gonna do with that information? Or your name, for that matter?"

He shrugged "Stalk me?"

Blaine sighed, of course he would deflect it "No, seriously." He said as Pretty Blue Eyes took his drink, his smile faltering at Blaine's tone and words, and started towards the door "We talked for a long time the other day. You know I'm not gonna… You know I'm a nice guy. And maybe I'm not hot enough or exciting, maybe I'm not your type, but…"

"Blaine."

"Why won't you just go on a date with me? Or at least tell me your name."

"I… I can't…" he muttered stepping out to the rush of people and traffic.

"Why not?" Blaine had to jog to keep up with the fast pace.

"Because." He said, sticking out his arm, hailing for a cab.

"That's not an answer."

"And why do I owe you an answer?" he snapped as a cab finally pulled over.

"I just… I want to get to know you!"

"Stop putting fantasies in your head! Stop putting fantasies in_ my_ head!" with a loud bang the door was slammed shut and Blaine was left there standing by the curb watching the cab drive away.

Blaine spent the following two weeks replaying those words over and over in his head, until they had had so many different meanings they had lost all and any of it. Every two days he would stand, for almost half an hour, in front of the coffee place wondering whether he should go in and wait for another miraculous coincidence or not. In the end he always gave up, remembering the clear and unfiltered frustration in Pretty Blue Eyes' voice the other day, and made the rest of his way home where he would sit around on his couch watching bad reality TV and trying not to feel like a complete loser by eating the junkiest of junk foods.

"God, you're ridiculous." He muttered to his reflection after a particularly long piss, when he'd had just enough time away from that couch to realize how depressing his life was getting.

He was pining after a guy whose name he didn't even know! And even before that, his life was just the perfect beginning for a rom-com. "I'm Bridget Jones…" He sighed, horrified at himself "I'm Bridget Jones, except I'm not adorable and quirky. I'm just sad."

Blaine picked up his Bridget Jones' Diary DVD and stuck it in.

What? You thought he was gonna go do something productive or fun? Make a great big change? Go out for a drink and hit on some guy get laid and be happy forever?

He made himself a bowl of popcorns during the opening credits and sat down watching it. He'd forgotten how much he loved it and smiled to himself. _This was a good idea! There's nothing like watching Renée Zellweger getting the love of her life to regain faith in love._

He smiled through the first few moments until he gasped in horror, dropping his popcorns "I'm not Bridget! I'm Mark! I'm sad and depressing and boring!" Blaine grunted in desperation, burying his face in his pillow. _Well, on the plus side, you're Colin Firth. Who wouldn't want to be Colin Firth?_

"Oh god, oh god… I'm Mark and I'm smitten with Daniel Cleaver, the Jackass!"

_Well, to be honest he's not that much like Hugh Grant, and he certainly isn't Daniel Cleaver. Daniel would've jumped on the opportunity to use you. He used Bridget!_

"Maybe he's… Is he… Could he be… Bridget?"

_Well, he might not be awkward and self-humiliating, but… maybe, just maybe he's been looking for love in all the wrong places and he's gotten burnt too many times._

"Now I'm just making movies up in my head."

_Why else would he say that about putting fairytales all up in his head?_

"I…" Blaine squinted at the TV screen. Bridget Jones looking all too distraught over Daniel. "Jesus, woman, Mark's your man! Get a grip!" he yelled in frustration.

_Ok. So what now?_

Blaine didn't really watch the rest of the movie. He just sat there quietly munching on his popcorns, thinking. First he decided that no matter what the outcome of all of this Blaine Anderson would never give up on love. That was not him – a Blaine Anderson that didn't believe in good things, good people and love wasn't any Blaine Anderson he wanted to be. Then he decided that he would try again. He would go into that coffee shop and he would wait and he would talk to Pretty Blue Eyes again and he would tell him all about Bridget Jones.

Well, maybe not all about Bridget Jones because the circumstances surrounding that were a little pathetic.

Come Monday afternoon Blaine sat peacefully at the coffee shop, watching as the door opened and closed, people entering cold and empty handed and leaving nursing steaming cups of delicious coffee.

His heart jumped to his throat when finally, _finally_, Pretty Blue Eyes made his way from the front door to the counter, already rummaging his bag for a wallet. Blaine made his way to stand right behind him, and as the girl at the cash register announced the cost of Pretty Blue Eye's Grand Non Fat Mocha he slipped the money before Pretty Blue Eyes could even so much as flip his wallet open.

"So now that I've paid for your coffee we are officially on a date." He announced cheerfully.

Pretty Blue Eyes seemed startled and disoriented for a moment and Blaine had a fleeting moment of panic that he'd forgotten who he was already. But then the man sighed and rolled his eyes "Hello Blaine."

"Hi, Pretty Blue Eyes. How are you?"

"I'd be better if you'd let me pay for my drink." He smiled tightly, no amusement whatsoever. But Blaine couldn't let that stop him.

"But then this wouldn't be a date." Blaine shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Here you go!" he accepted the hot cup and handed it carefully to Pretty Blue Eyes' outstretched hand.

"What if I had a boyfriend, huh? Ever think of that?"

_Then you'd have to dump Hugh Grant, that's what._ "Well… do you?"

"Not the point."

"So no Hugh Grant, then." Blaine smirked and Pretty Blue Eyes frowned slightly before turning to walk away.

"Listen, I don't know what your game here is, but you can't really expect me to think you really want to date me after… the way we met. And this is, honestly, all a little bit too crazy for my liking. So, good bye, Blaine, have a nice life."

"Wait, wait!" He squeezed himself to the sudden rush of people coming in and breathed the harsh cold wind outside. It was almost dark now, and Blaine wondered how much time had he actually spent just sitting there.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me."

"Jesus…!"

Blaine kept his smile on, undisturbed by all the rejection. He scribbled his number on a piece of paper. "Call me and we'll figure something out."

"Well, first of all I don't need you to give me your number because I have it-"

It took a moment for Blaine to register that, to understand what it meant and then it clicked and he actually grinned "Wait, I thought you said you didn't have my wallet anymore!"

"I…" For the first time Pretty Blue Eyes was blushing a violent shade of red, grasping at straws to try and keep cool and collected.

"So you know a lot about me, I know nothing about you. That doesn't seem fair. Please."

"Blaine Anderson, twenty four years old, originally from Ohio, and with a membership card to a health club that seems to have never been touched. Yes, I even know your address. And yes you look a lot like your mother and you keep way too many useless papers in your wallet. I can know a lot about a person just from their wallet. Doesn't mean I know them, and doesn't mean I can trust them."

"So, have dinner with me and I'll fill in the blanks."

"Blaine!" He sighed frustrated "You don't ask the person who steals your wallet out on a date! You just don't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because… It's ridiculous!"

"Didn't you enjoy that other night we talked? I did! It was amazing! I wanna do it again!"

"I… That's not the point!"

"Did you like it?"

"I…" He groaned "Of course I liked it, Blaine, what do you think? Yes, I had fun! Yes, you're charming and funny, mostly when you're not even trying to be funny, but… That means nothing, because I can't do this! I made a mistake that night, and I'm sorry, but that's it!"

"Why can't you just accept that I'm just…? There's… There's something about you and about us, and I need to… What's so wrong with _one _date? Huh? Just one date!"

"Blaine. I screw things up, ok? That's what I do. Everything in my life I screw it up! Everything I touch turns to shit! Do you wanna turn to shit, Blaine, do you?"

"I… Hum… I…"

"I am not interesting or challenging… I'm not a mystery…! I'm fucked up. Simple as that."

"Why… why are you mad at me?"

"Because you don't get to be all smiles and blushes with me! You don't to get to be_ nice_ and tell me that you want to take me out on a date because that's not my life! That's not something I can just _have_, Blaine."

"Why not?"

"Have you not been listening?" He almost pulled at his own hair "I take things and I ruin them! My mom, my dad, my… my life!"

"I don't… That's not…" _That's not true. You're just overreacting. Everyone thinks everything Is their fault and nothing ever is. That's not true!_

"Do yourself a favor and stay away from me. Find yourself some pretty boy who has a good head on his shoulders and doesn't steal people's wallets."

"That's not what I want!"

"Goodbye, Blaine." He said sternly before turning his back and walking away, head held high.

"So you're just gonna stay away from everything that would make you happy because it might fall to shit?" He called after him, and was oddly a little satisfied when his steps faltered and he stopped "Life's imperfection doesn't make it ok to be a coward!"

He regretted saying it the minute it'd left his lips, but even if he hadn't, the way Pretty Blue Eye's shoulders dropped and when he started walking again his head wasn't held high anymore… that would've made Blaine regret it if he hadn't already. _Who says that?_

Blaine looked around him, a couple of heads still looking at him, frowning at his words and the blow of his voice and he wanted to escape and dive in black hole of his own humiliation and regret. Instead he grunted and kicked the bench next to him, hurting his foot.

That night he didn't stay home, and the night after that either. He went to the bar his friends used to go to when he wasn't sad and depressing and actually hung out with people. Mostly he didn't pay much attention to their conversations, though, busy in whirlwind of cursing and regretting. It was open mic week and Blaine remembered how he used to hog hours on that stage, but no one ever seemed to actually complain. That first night he did get up on that stage and he performed a heartfelt acoustic version of Cough Syrup, and he did receive a standing ovation. But the next night he didn't get to pour his heart out in song again.

He was downing his drink to make his way to the stage when someone else beat him to the punch. He watched, frozen in place, mind numb and voice gone, as the tall lean figure made its way to center stage, so graceful and powerful yet so hesitant and shy. Pretty Blue Eyes was looking straight into Blaine's Eyes.

"Hello…" his voice seemed so small, and yet it filled the whole room "My… My name is Kurt. Kurt Hummel… And I would like to dedicate this song to… someone who is… a little cruel and a lot right."

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

_Black bird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_all your life_

_you were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night._

Prett-Kurt finished to thunderous applause but all Blaine could was stand there like a fool's statue, stripped of words and even thoughts. Kurt stepped down from the stage and made his way to Blaine in firm, precise steps. He put something down on the table, right in front of Blaine and muttered "I'm sorry."

"P-Kurt! Wait!"

"Just… look into that." He said, his voice low and almost afraid and Blaine thought his eyes shone a little brighter than usual in that dark smoky bar. "I'll… I'll go now."

Blaine watched him leave for some reason. In retrospect he thought maybe it was the fact that Kurt hadn't said Goodbye like all the other times, or that there was no finality in his voice. But Blaine really wasn't sure what possessed him to stay there as he watched Kurt walk away.

He looked at the table in front of him and his eyes widened a bit as he saw his old wallet there. He flipped it open to find everything like he'd last seen it. His credit cards, his license, way too many now useless receipts he kept for little to no reason at all, the little card where Wes had written down this very same bar's address the first time they'd arranged to hang out, his parents' pictures, even his money was there – the exact same bills.

_Look into that_…? Look into what? Everything was as it used to be, so…

Then he noticed a little piece of paper poking out from where he kept a card with all of his important contacts. He pulled it out and found a note.

_You're right. Every time I let myself be happy I always ended up disappointed, so I figured it best not be happy at all. Maybe that's me being a coward. I didn't use to be a coward, you know? I don't really want be a coward. I want to be brave again. I just don't know how. I'd ask for your help, but you once said that people do that all the time, and that it hurts you – how they use you. I don't want to hurt you. I can handle with being hurt, but I don't know if I can handle hurting someone. I don't want to be the one to take that warmth away from you. I guess, I'm scared. Again. So. I'd understand if you say no, now. Like I said, I make things turn to shit. And you should really think about this. And do things right by you, and not me (because I'd never ask for your help). But. Maybe you could ask me on a date again?_

Blaine jumped out of that table now, cursing himself for not making Kurt stay while he read that because now he had no way of asking him out again. Because Blaine didn't really want to think about it. He didn't need to. All he'd needed were those words "I'd never ask for your help."

He ran out of the bar, into the cold deserted streets, he took a cab and went to the coffee shop, but it was closed and empty, he went to the place where he'd dropped Kurt off the other night but after screaming his name enough times to get the neighbors angry and opening windows to shout back he gave up. He even went to the bus stop, but there was no one there either. He sighed and gave his home address to the cab driver. He'd have to wait till at least the next day, to go into that coffee shop and wait for Kurt, the way he had before. Maybe this was Kurt's way of making sure he thought about it.

But then he got off the cab and he cursed himself for not thinking about that, for not coming here sooner.

Kurt was sitting on the cold front steps, scarf twisting between his hands and he looked up as Blaine shut the cab's door. His face was anxious and nervous. "I… I was gonna wait… till Monday. To… To give you time to think. But." _This is Bridget._ "I cou- I did- I… I'm here." He sighed defeated at his lack of words.

"I want to help you." Blaine smiled, stepping closer. Kurt's face twisted up in a frown and he looked away from Blaine.

"I don't… I don't want that."

"I know. But I do." Blaine placed soft careful fingers under Kurt's chin and made him look to his reassuring expression "I want to help you. I'm doing it because I want to. Not because you asked, which you didn't. It's what I want."

"You barely know me. How can…"

"It's just a leap of faith. And it's just one date." Blaine shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as he could "What's the worst thing that could happen? It's good and we have to go on a second…?"

Kurt chuckled and Blaine loved the sound "Thank you."

"Anytime…" Blaine stuck his hands in his pockets to keep them from Kurt's.

"I saw you sing, yesterday… You're amazing. I… Kind of wanted to talk to you, then… But I didn't know what to say… so I left, and I went home and I thought about it… And I wrote you that note… so. Yeah."

"What… What made you change your mind?"

"It's… It's not worth it." Kurt said after a moment hesitation "Living this half life just because things end badly sometimes… It's not worth it. I'm still scared. All the time. And I'm still setting myself up for failure all the same… when I don't try to get a job, because I know I'm not good enough… when I go on a date with a jackass because I know I won't be the one to screw that up… When… Well… I'm just failing on purpose instead of trying to succeed and maybe, eventually failing. It's just as bad and it's not worth it." He looked at Blaine's eyes. His so raw and honest and unguarded that it almost took Blaine aback. There was a hint of a blush there and he bit his lip before he spoke in a shy, tentative voice "You're kind of… You're kind of my fresh start."

Blaine nodded and extended a hand towards Kurt "Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson, you have the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen and I would be delighted if you'd join me for dinner some time."

Kurt laughed – actually laughed, this time and he took Blaine's hand in a quick shake that lingered as he moved to take his hand away. "Well, huh, Blaine." He was grinning as he spoke, trying to tease it out but failing adorably and for the first time Blaine could see beyond his mask of coolness and detachment and it was only making things better "Let me just…" he was searching for something in his pocket and finally fished out a pen. He reached for Blaine's arm, pushed the layers of clothes back and moved the pen against his skin "This is my number." he said as he wrote "Call me. _Soon_."

"I will!"

"Great!" He smiled as he capped his pen and stuck it in his pocket again. Blaine glanced at his arm and smiled as beneath the numbers he read 'Kurt, aka Pretty Blue Eyes'

Kurt spun around slightly, beaming as he retreated. Blaine fished his keys from his pocket, touching his cell as he did. He laughed at his own silliness before picking it up and dialing.

He heard Kurt's phone ring and saw as the other man laughed and picked it up, still walking away "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, Kurt? This is Blaine… From the bus… remember? You fell on me…?"

"Hummm I think I remember…" Blaine watched as Kurt walked slow and relaxed, free hand touching each sidewalk lightly pin as he passed them by.

"I was calling to now if you'd like to go to dinner, this Friday night. I'd pick you up, at… say… six o'clock?"

"I… Alright. Sounds good."

"Oh, also…" Blaine jogged up behind him "Could you please turn around?" He said as he laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

As soon as Kurt spun to face Blaine, smiling and actually giggling he'd pressed their lips together, pushing his against Kurt's impossibly soft and warm lips, and holding them there, moving ever so slightly until Kurt himself dropped his cell to tangle his fingers through Blaine's hair and pulled him even closer, exhaling heavily through his nose in a way Blaine had never thought would sound beautiful and romantic and sensual. He held Kurt's neck carefully between both his hands, bringing them up to brush at the nape of his hair and he felt as Kurt shivered under his touch. They were both smiling into the kiss as they pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. "Sorry about that…" Blaine muttered, not sorry at all "couldn't really help myself there…"

"My fault, really, I did come onto you awfully hard." Kurt smiled, quirking an eyebrow in suave charm, before it all fell to pieces and he was blushing and giggling and pressing another chaste and quicker kiss to Blaine's lips and ducking to catch his fallen cell phone, before starting to walk away, backwards "I need to go, now. Before I embarrass myself any further. I haven't… I haven't been happy in a while, and I'm not sure I know how." He smiled.

"You seem to be doing just fine." Blaine called after him.

"You're too nice. And adorable.. and gorgeous..." Kurt clapped both hands over his mouth, startled, before chuckling to himself, already a good twenty feet away from Blaine and calling out "And I'll just go now! I'll see you Friday!"

"I CAN'T WAIT!"

Blaine beamed to himself as he turned the key and collapsed against his door sighing happily. He picked his cell and typed out a quick text.

_Thanks for giving me my wallet back, too, btw. I like this one a lot better. – B_

_What do you mean? It's hideous! Your new one is much nicer – it's real leader and it's a much nicer color. It's real light too! I'll keep this one instead. Win-win. (I can't wait either) – K_

_xXxXxXx_

_**Would anyone be interested in Kurt's side of the story?**_


	3. Kurt's side  Part 1

**So Kurt's part of the deal is actually a LOT more angsty, so apologies in advance for the change in tone. But obviously it was need to justify his actions.**

**I'm also sorry it took this long, between schoolwork and some lack of, let's say inspiration, I just couldn't finish this until today. I'll put the second half of his part soon enough, after I've proof read it.**

xXxXxXx

"Dear god, hallelujah!" Kurt muttered as the bus finally turned the corner. Maybe he should have taken the subway. But he'd been in such a good mood and today was actually sunny. Kurt took a deep breath, reminding himself exactly why he was in such a good mood and boarded on the bus, no resentment whatsoever towards its tardiness. Thirty bucks, that's all he needed. Thirty bucks and that scarf was his. He could whip that up pretty fast, and he didn't even need to go out of his way, probably.

As luck would have it there was free seat by the window and Kurt would be damned if the woman in the obnoxiously pink coat was going to get to it first. He needed to sit down and take a deep breath. He shuffled through, trying to be careful and keep out of other people's way, but scoping as well for any open pocket or inviting purse. He found none – well, not as easy as he knew he could find and he was feeling a little lazy, so he figured, _what the hell, I'll do it later tonight, maybe._

He reached the seat first, the lady in the dreadful pink coat trying to mask a look of irritation and disappointment, and it only served to enhance Kurt's good spirits. He apologized as he felt the back of his legs brush against one of the passenger's book, but he forgot to voice said apology. It happened a lot with Kurt, now – over the years he'd gotten so used to keeping most of his thoughts to himself that he sometimes actually forgot to voice them.

He sat down pulling his shoulder bag to his lap and taking a look around him. There was a very rotund couple standing next to him and the man had his jacket open showing off his grease stained shirt and what Kurt was disgusted to recognize as sweat stains – he could see the man's wallet poking out of his pocket, but Kurt would be damned before he touched anything from that man. He fought the grimace that wanted to take over his face and looked away, adjusting his bag and reaching to cover his nose with his scarf. As he did though, he was distracted, finding the guy in front of him looking straight at him. Kurt's eyes were met by beautiful and warm hazel ones that became wide for a fraction of second before looking down at the book in his hands again. Kurt almost chuckled to himself at the guy's embarrassment to be caught looking and took the opportunity to inspect a little closer (at least if he looked back Kurt would have the excuse that he'd been staring first) _wait, had he been staring? Probably not. _

Kurt _was_ staring, though. He definitely was. He was paying close attention to the carefully attended to curls that framed his face. He was paying close attention to the oddly attractive way the man's eyebrows were thick and triangular. He was paying close attention to his slightly big and bumpy nose. He was playing close attention to his full lips and how every two seconds he would flick his tongue over them before biting ever so slightly. He was paying close attention to his wide and strong looking jaw. He was paying very close attention to his long eyelashes that almost made up for the fact that Kurt couldn't see those amazing eyes as they glazed over the words on the book.

He was almost managing to force himself to look away when the guy looked up, just for a second or two and looked back down at once. Kurt took the chance to hide a silent giggle. He looked around again, but there was this magnetic force pulling his eyes to that amazing hazel and he excused himself by thinking that the guy would probably be hurt if Kurt was not looking back – like he'd just think he found him ugly or unattractive. Kurt was just being nice, after all.

The guy had a sense of style, too, and Kurt was impressed to notice his clothes looked actually quite expensive. He wondered if the guy's wallet would be easy to steal. He didn't look like the kind of man that took public transportation very often, and those were usually the easiest targets, forgetting to keep their belongings at the bottom of bags, or in inside pockets… But then the man chewed nervously on his lip again and Kurt felt a small pang of guilt over considering stealing this guy's wallet. I mean, look at him! Kurt could never be that mean, no matter how much he wanted those thirty bucks, which he was more than sure this guy had in his wallet.

_When did I grow a conscience about whose wallet I steal, though?_

As Kurt battled with his 'professional vs. personal' dilemma, his eyes didn't stray from him and he hoped the guy would look up again, because those fleeting glances were really just precious. Sure enough those beautiful hazel eyes strayed from the book once more and this time he didn't look away at once and Kurt couldn't help smiling - he did manage to make it into a teasing smirk – he was proud of himself for that. He was even prouder of himself when the guy presented him with 100 watts beam and accompanied it with a wave and Kurt hadn't felt this childishly excited, giddy and flattered in a while. But this guy was priceless – he had no game! He was beaming and waving! It was _adorable_!

Kurt shifted in his seat, trying but failing not to laugh, and he had to look away not lose his own coolness.

And what was even best was that he was like that for Kurt. Someone got that ridiculous for Kurt? Kurt was never this lucky! There was no way today was Kurt's life and he almost had an urge to be unoriginal enough as to pinch himself and make sure life was real right now.

He looked out the window, biting off the grin he wanted to set free and he noticed with a small jump that his stop was coming. He stood, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and didn't even see it coming when the bus jolted and he felt himself propelled forward, practically falling on the guy's lap. His right hand landed on the guy's chest, and he could feel his wallet right there. He didn't know why he did it, then. He didn't understand the way his brain worked for those small seconds. In a decision of a split second Kurt did the one thing he would spent hours and days on end not knowing why he'd done it. Discreetly slipping his fore and middle fingers inside the pocket he snatched the wallet away, distracted the man with a hard shove against his arm. He pulled himself up, swiftly tugging the wallet into his sleeve trying to keep the shake off his voice and the horror at his own action off his face "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry!" was the guy blushing? He was blushing. He was so cute! _Kurt. You're an ass._

"I really didn't meant to come onto you so hard… and quite this literally." He smiled even though he just wanted to slap himself and then he winked and felt even more disgusted at himself and nearly ran out of the bus.

As soon as his feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk he closed his eyes and nearly cried.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" He muttered under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair as the other let the wallet slide back to it and flipped it open. He only looked at it for a split second before he was snapping it closed angrily with a grunt, shoving it in his bag and stalking off home.

He closed the door behind him with a sigh. The day had been perfect and then he'd done what he was best at – ruining things. It was like he couldn't let things just happen. He was relieved to notice his idiot of a roommate was not home yet.

Kurt flopped himself onto the couch and pullet the tragic wallet out the depths of his bag, eyeing it carefully. It was worn out brown leather and there was absolutely nothing about its design that was special or interesting, but it looked owned and used in a good way – the edges were fraying slightly, there were some scratches on the leather and it wasn't shiny in the least anymore. Kurt frowned and smiled slightly – forgetting his own stupidity for a moment – as he wondered why would someone with the expensive clothes and clean cut style this guy had, have such a worn down wallet. He wondered if the man was a sentimentalist, if the wallet had been given to him by someone special and he couldn't bring himself to buy a new one and he knew it was probably it, and it made him feel even worse about the whole thing – if such a thing was possible.

He opened it carefully, not bothering to look for stuff. There were two impressive looking credit cards and Kurt wondered whether… _Blaine Anderson_ (he muttered it, letting it roll on his tongue and guiltily enjoying how it sounded and how it felt)… was a child prodigy or from good families. He took out the credit cards and splayed them on the coffee table before going back. He picked the driver's license, carefully inspecting it before laying it next to the credit cards. There were some small photographs Kurt figured to be family members. There was a card where Anderson had written out his main means of contact and Kurt's eyes lingered on his cell phone number before twirling the card over his fingers and laying it on the table. There was a messy assortment of receipts, most of them for books and Kurt found himself smiling at a few, even if he wanted to scowl at whoever kept such a mess of unnecessary papers in his wallet. There were a few of 20 dollar bills in there two – Kurt raised an eyebrow as it added up to eighty bucks. There was a little contact card for a bookshop that had an address scrawled on the back of it and 'they have open mics every once in a while.'. There were membership cards - gym (even though it read 2013 it looked brand new and Kurt found it quite amusing), blockbuster, another movie rental place, some bookshop Kurt had never heard of, Gap (_Gap? Really?_), Burberry, Saccoor Brothers…

Kurt's favorite part was a yellow post it that had been glued right to the center of it all and said 'Buy Milk. Pick up dry cleaner's. Call Coop. Survive the day.'

Kurt was twirling the paper carefully between his fingers when the front door was yanked open and in came Sebastian. "Hey!" he shot, dropping his bag by the door and looking over at Kurt, taking in the wallet in his hand and the cards splayed out on the table "Fresh meat?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. That's a lot of cash. And some impressive credit cards. Why aren't you jumping up and down?"

"I'm… I don't know. It doesn't feel good, this time. Something's wrong about this."

"After two years pick-pocketing you're now starting to feel guilty?"

"It was this guy on the bus… I don't know why I did it." Kurt muttered, trying to reason with himself more than Sebastian "He was just so…" _charming, cute, Disney-prince-like, unreal_ "I honestly don't know why I did. I think… I think I was trying to remind myself that…"_ I was never going to be with someone like that, someone who looked so genuinely nice, that life isn't what you wish it to be and you just can't act like it will._

"You're making a lot of sense today." Sebastian shrugged "How did the pitch go?"

"Great, actually." Kurt answered mind absently.

"Are you sure? For some reason I expected you to mess it up."

Kurt let Sebastian's voice roll off his back and collected everything from the coffee table "I heard yours went fine, though…" he added casually "I mean, fine as in, not horrible enough to deserve a shower of insults from the great slaughter squad, but forgettable enough for Harvey to actually ask 'I'm sorry, what scarf are you referring to?' when Pierce mentioned that scarf you spent weeks bragging about in his presentation." Kurt smirked before heading to his own bedroom quick enough only to catch the faltering in Sebastian's smirk.

Kurt tucked everything back into the wallet, including the money, and stuck it inside his scarves drawer with a long, deep sigh.

Maybe it was for the better. Maybe the guy was an ass anyway, maybe he was just a spaz and not really adorable and cute, but just childish and dumb. Maybe he wouldn't have liked Kurt or appreciated his biting wit. Maybe he would've just wanted mindless, meaningless sex… Maybe it would've all just been a disappointment.

Kurt half smiled. Yes, it was probably for the best. Even if the guy had looked like… not. _That's enough, Kurt. Think about Harvey telling you that your designs were 'without a doubt' on the top three this year._

He couldn't keep it off his mind all week, though.

xXxXx

"No, Finn, I can't come down on Christmas, I told you." He sighed. It was always like this. "I don't have the money to spend on the plane tickets and besides, I've got too much work to do. You have no idea."

"But Rachel's driving down, you could hitch a ride with her, man. And you're always working and studying, you'll kill yourself like that, man. And my mom's always saying how much she misses you."

"Finn, I can't, I really can't. I'm sorry, though. Tell your mother that, tell her I'm real sorry."

"Kurt…" Finn started, and he knew from Finn's voice the conversation that was about to take place and he really wasn't up for it so he spoke before Finn could takes his first long breath.

"I gotta go, now. It was nice catching up. I'll call you again, soon. Ok? Bye!"

"Kurt please-"

"Send my love to Carole, will you? Love you guys, bye."

"I – Kurt…" _sigh_ "Fine, bye."

Oh god, when did Finn get so grown up and perceptive? Kurt took a long, almost painful breath as he pocketed his cell phone and stepped out into the bustling streets. He stopped at the line – he needed a new copy of that month's Vogue because Sebastian had been nice enough to spill coffee over it. Finn's voice kept playing and replaying in his head as he stood in line and he really needed to find himself a distraction because that train of thought never did end very well. The inexistent God that Kurt sometimes prayed to for lack of anything better to do, say or think, answered his silent plea.

"Hey!"

Kurt turned to find a familiar (no matter how much he wished it wasn't so) face glaring at him. Kurt feigned a look of detached and quiet confusion "Yes…?"

"You stole my wallet!" Blaine Anderson barked. Kurt couldn't help feeling slightly amused at how out of place that kind of expression looked in the man's face. He wondered if he felt that way, too – if Blaine Anderson felt weird being angry, if he felt uncomfortable and unsure about how to do it.

"I…" He looked around as people started to look and started reassessing how much he really did need a new copy of Vogue "I most certainly did not!"

"Yeah, yeah you did! You tripped and fell on me on the bus last week and next thing I know I've got no wallet!"

"This is ridiculous!" He gasped, holding onto his bag strap and starting to walk away, Blaine following him.

"I'm sure!" Anderson called after him, trying to walk twice as fast to keep up with Kurt's longer strides "You flirted with me to get me distracted!"

"This is absurd!" his face was scorching red – it could pass off as legitimate confused embarrassment, and no one had to know that this was Kurt's head in a complete disarray: not only was this the first time someone had 'recognized' him as a pickpocket, but it was also the owner of the one wallet he regretted stealing "I've never been this humiliated! Honestly!"

"Don't play dumb!"

"I'm not!" he nearly shouted, still walking fast and desperate to get away, but trying to remain as cool and calm as any normal innocent person would "I just tend to be confused when some random guy makes wild accusations!"

"Wild…? Come on! I'm sure it was you! Even if you hadn't stolen my wallet I'd still remember your face because…" _because…? No – Kurt! Stop it! Don't go playing films in your head. You know why but it still doesn't mean anything._

Kurt stopped abruptly turning to Anderson and the man practically crashed into him, caught off guard. Kurt needed to regain control over himself and this whole ridiculous situation "Listen, random guy who thinks I stole his wallet. I don't steal. I make my own honest living. Look at me… Look at my clothes, do I look like someone who needs to steal people's wallets?"

He quieted down the voice in his head that screamed liar and cheat, because at this point in his life this shouldn't make him feel like this – like this sorry excuse for a human. And especially because he thought he'd had it under control, he thought he'd gotten to the point where he didn't care anymore about honest livings and whatnot. Who was this man to take that away from Kurt with a soft smile and beautiful trusting eyes?

"That… It… You… It was you, I'm sure!" Anderson seemed off guard, taking in Kurt's expensive clothes, and Kurt knew he should feel pleased with himself about that, but he didn't. He just kept on feeling like a liar.

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yeah!" The earnestness in the man's voice, and his wide, almost sparkling eyes, the conviction with which he spoke to Kurt almost made him say something stupid. Instead Kurt took a moment to regain control over himself, because this man could not be allowed to make him feel like this – he'd be damned if all it took for Kurt to lose his grip on reality was a naïve, handsome man.

Steeling himself Kurt dove in once more, half defense, half attack "Ok, let's say, hypothetically, I did. What then?"

"Well… I want it back, and… and I'm taking you to the police." Anderson had a proud look on his face, like he'd done it – like he'd proven to Kurt just how much of a strong man he was, like he wasn't taking any bullshit from Kurt, like the man Kurt met on the bus was nothing but a momentary lack of judgment – and Kurt could almost hear him think _That'll show him_ – and Kurt needed to laugh at how obviously untrue all of it was, because otherwise it would just be too painful to think that he stole from this man – that he was horrible enough to take advantage of this ridiculously _good _guy, who knew _nothing _about real life. And for a moment Kurt even managed to resent him and his country club childhood and cruise ship vacations, void of any real concern or trouble. He held on to that fleeting thought and made a full-fledged feeling out of it and it made everything easier – it made it easier to deal with what he did, and it made it easier to say the things he needed to say and to laugh like he needed to laugh.

So Kurt laughed, as hard as he could. "You… police! Oh…precious!"

"What?" Anderson rolled his eyes, and Kurt could see how he was trying to maintain his posture of authority, but he also saw how he shuffled his feet ever so slightly, how his hand squeezed nervously rather than angrily at this briefcase, how his cheeks became slightly darker.

Kurt got his laughter under control and still holding onto that moment of resentment, stretching it on for all it was worth and could give him he continued, amused more than anything "You want to go to the Police and press charges?"

"Yes…"

"Oh, honey…" Kurt had known the answer before he'd asked, but somehow hearing it still was unbelievable. How did people like this exist? How is someone so lucky in their lives that they would think this was a viable option? How could someone be actually this blissfully ignorant? "Honey!"

"Listen, Pret- Huh… pret-t-tensious little sneaky thieve, I want my wallet back." Kurt tried not to frown at the strange idea of an insult and he almost admired the man before the ability to keep going with as much conviction in his voice as one could have, given the circumstances. And Kurt felt a little bit bad, but this time because he could sense the humiliation drenching Anderson, overtaking every part of him. And, like one too many times, Kurt wondered what was better, blissful ignorance or hard knowledge. Then he remembered that there once was a time he was blissfully ignorant, and despite his best efforts, reality had still kicked in. So… maybe Kurt was just this guy's reality, or a small part of it. Maybe there really was no dilemma because maybe there was no such thing a blissfully ignorant life – maybe it was always bound to end, at some point.

"And I want a two story, ten room apartment with a luscious, though modern and minimalistic decoration, but that isn't happening either..."

"What do you mean? What did you do with my wallet?"

"I told you, I didn't steal it." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and I don't believe you."

"Skepticism has lost its charm, don't you think? Honestly, person whose wallet I allegedly took, let me tell you how things work in the real world." Kurt took a small step forward, walking the fine line between feeling sorry for the guy, and being annoyed at his clueless persistence "When someone takes your wallet you can bet your sweet behind that the next day they don't have it anymore, for sure. And you can also bet that same sweet behind that the police won't give a rat's ass, and you want to know why? Because you could never prove it that I took it."

"So you admit it?"

_Oh wow! He does not give up!_ "No, I told you how these things work out and that you can't prove I did it. I don't think anywhere there I admitted to anything other than the fact that I find your behind to be very sweet." Kurt needed to get out of there, he just did. Or he would either lose it and start screaming at the guy to stop messing with his head or he would lose and start crying his eyes out and apologizing over and over. Either way he wasn't feeling like it. So he did the same as last time, he smiled and winked and turned around.

"What the fuck!" Anderson called after him "I need it! I had important documents there!"

He stopped and turned back to Anderson, bordering on mad more than sorry "Listen, give it up, ok? You getting your wallet back, never going to happen. Just cancel the credit cards, get yourself a pretty new license and go wallet shopping."

"There! You admit it!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! What are you? Five?" he rolled his eyes and tried to calm himself with a long breath "I did not admit to anything. How do you know my wallet wasn't stolen three times in the last five months and that's why I know how it all works, huh? Listen, I'd really love to stay and discuss pick pocketing methods and whatnot but I've got classes to attend. I don't have the time, the energy or the patience right now…"

"You're… you… how…"_ Oh sit. Now he knows where you're going. Oh crap._ "I could just follow you and find out where you study and pester you until you admit to it!"

Kurt allowed himself a moment of slight panic as his brain caught up "Yes, you could, but, alas, that could be considered stalking and I'm quite sure the hundreds of students that would see you everyday near my campus would be very good witnesses in my request for a restraining order. As you've noticed, that would be the difference between my allegation and yours – I can prove mine, you can't prove yours."

"What are you? A Law student?" Anderson seemed more disgusted than confused at his own option, in a way that was almost comical and Kurt wondered if the guy knew enough idiot lawyers.

"No. Just someone with a brain."

"Ok… ok… I'm… Listen, you don't look like the type of person to go around stealing wallets… what… do you need help?"

The words were out of Anderson's mouth and Kurt's brain went into overdrive. It had been a long time since anyone had even stopped to take a look at Kurt. And hell yes, he needed help – he was a fucking walking disaster, but he'd be damned if anyone was ever to see that side of him. He's be damned if anyone was ever to know how much of a fuck up he had turned out, and how many sleepless night he'd tossed and turned in his bed wishing he could do everything different. He'd be damned if anyone was ever to know he couldn't do things alone, because he could, dammit, he could! And he would be dammed if it was the guy whose wallet he stole to be the first person in too much time to notice this.

He had no right to know these things! And he had no right to offer him help and treat him like some pathetic little charity case, because that was not Kurt. And he had no right to make Kurt want to take his help. He had no right to make him want to take him back to his place and just talk for hours about everything and ask him to tell him that it wasn't as bad as it seemed, that things would get better, that he would get better, and that he wasn't a lying, stealing, cheating, disgusting excuse for a person, and that somehow he could make it out of these two years of stupor, because he could and because it was worth it and because he was worth it, and because he mattered. He had no right to make Kurt want to hear those words again, and he sure as hell had no right saying them, even if it was all Kurt wanted to hear.

He turned and had to keep himself from running away, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off his face because that would give it away to the man left standing there, confused.

When he got to his school building he wasn't crying anymore, but he was still thinking, 200 miles per hour, and he couldn't stop. That was always his problem now. He thought too much, Before, he used to feel too much, and then he got hurt, and he tried to stop feeling, so he started thinking. And now… he couldn't stop thinking. If he did, he'd feel, anyway, and that was just as bad. No, it'd be worse. So he thought.

He thought about Blaine Anderson because, believe it or not, it was the easiest.

Blaine Anderson, who had, apparently, no clue as to how real life worked. Blaine who was like an open book, just waiting to be read, anxious to get someone to read him, to enjoy him. It was ridiculous that Kurt knew so much from so little, but he did. Then again, it really wasn't so little. Yes, it was little time, but, like I said, Blaine was an open book. Every emotion flickered through his face clear as daylight, and every thought that went unspoken still filtered through his eyes.

It was clear too that he came from money, and Kurt found it was easier to assume the man had never had a real care in his life, that the reason he was so clueless was because he'd never set foot outside his crystal palace. It was easier to assume that his willingness to give himself away was because his own life was too perfect and that he needed the outside world to shake it up a little bit.

It was easier to assume that than to wonder what really made those words possible. It was easier than to really, really ask why would someone ask another person, a person who stole their wallet and humiliated them afterwards "do you need help?"

Because if the answer wasn't 'spoiled' or 'bored', than Kurt really couldn't stand himself and what he'd done.

And because if he'd let himself go down that road all sorts of thoughts, and feelings, and emotions would come rushing back – stuff that he had spent two years pushing back. That he'd been successful at pushing back. He was exhausted after those two years, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice – I mean, look at him. Two years, he finally let his guard down and all it took was a pair of beautiful unguarded eyes and everything was falling into deeper shit.

That evening when Sebastian got home he found Kurt in his bedroom absorbed in his writing and he knew what was happening and he knew better than to disturb him, because it'd be no use anyway. So instead he rolled his eyes and went to his own bedroom, and played his music loud enough for Kurt to know he didn't want to go in his room.

It was something that Kurt had started doing – two years ago, you may have guessed - writing letters. It helped him think, clear his head. He'd done it a lot at first, but he started getting the hang of things, life went a little smoother (though not necessarily better) and he didn't need them so much. Still, there were some particularly bad days and this was one of them.

_You used to make me believe in happy endings. I needed that now. I think I had a chance at one, today. If I could make myself reach for it, I would. But you used to make me believe in happy endings. As in, used. As in past tense. As in not anymore. Because you're not here even though I need you to. I can't reach for it because I don't know how to. I forgot how to believe in them. I need you here to remind me. I need you. You said you'd be here. You promised, and you're not. And I need you to be. So. So. So, where are you, huh? Where the fuck are you? Where are you, dad?_

He pushed the paper away from him in an angry movement because, somehow, it wasn't helping. He started out like always, but now he was just angry again. At himself, at the world and at the one person he couldn't handle being mad at.

He hated himself as he pushed against the chair and got up, made his way out of his bedroom and into Sebastian, not even bothering to knock. Sebastian was surprised for a moment but, like many times before, he caught up quickly enough and they fell into each other like rain on the black road – good enough to make a pretty image and a lot of noise, but not much else. Shallow hard thrusts that meant nothing at all. Deep grunts that weren't really for one another. Closed eyes and buried faces, because seeing each other was never important.

And when he left the bedroom, pulling on his underwear, Kurt felt disgusted with himself, like always, but he knew better than to give into the feeling. Instead he picked his pen again and finished his letter

_It means nothing… all of this. All these letters, all these feelings, all these thoughts. All of this. It doesn't mean a thing, because you're not here, anyway, are you?_

And he laid down on his bed and stared at his feeling and wondered how it was that he could still feel bad about disappointing someone that had died two years ago. It's not like his dad would ever know about any of this. He was dead and that was it. That was never going to change.

But the memories weren't going to change either, and this was… it was tainting them. Kept turning them into lies and broken promises and Kurt hated that, and he hated how he allowed himself to numb it out. How he kept thinking, and thinking, and thinking. And how rational every fucking thing had been for the past two years, and how, if you look at it, no matter how rational and how thoughtful it all was, it was still crazy. Everything about it was absolutely crazy because Kurt didn't recognize himself anymore.

He was not this person who stole wallets. He was not this person who had meaningless sex with his roommate, who he hated, because it was the only way he could feel the least bit wanted and valued, even if that feeling was over the minute they finished. He was not this person who disregarded everything he'd been taught just because the person who'd taught it was dead. He was not this person who didn't believe in anything, because believing in something and losing it hurt too much. He wasn't this person.

And yet, he didn't know how to go back to the person he was.

Well. He knew how. He just couldn't.

He spent two weeks of his life on auto-pilot for the day, coming back home at night to lie down and stare at his ceiling and think. Knowing he should be crying, maybe. Because who feels this lost in life and still doesn't shed a tear? Every once in a while Blaine Anderson would pop up in his mind, occupy a few of his thoughts, and he could almost feel the heat radiating from the wallet, still hidden in his drawer.

Once he got up and actually picked it up and went through it again. His favorite thing was still the post it, but it was also the worst, because he wondered how big a part was Kurt in making Blaine Anderson's day even worse, in making it that much harder to survive that day. The more Kurt thought, the harder it got to ignore the world of possibilities that was Blaine Anderson, and the harder it was to resent his supposed perfect life. The harder it was to ignore the way he'd made him _feel_. The harder it was to ignore that this should've been his wake up call. The harder it was to ignore that this was wasting his time, lying on a bed, thinking, when he should be making himself go back to who he was.

On Monday Kurt stopped for coffee after school – he knew Sebastian would be home with a hook up – he'd seen them leave school eating each other's faces off. He sat with his drink and opened his book, and he smiled because this was a little bit normal. Maybe he could do it. Maybe he could go back to a simpler time where he would drink coffee, read, watch some bad reality TV… He didn't lose much time thinking about it, and was amazed at how easy it was to forget everything and just_ read_. Every once in a while a noise or a movement would interrupt his reading, he'd look up, find the source, appease his curiosity and go back to his reading.

There was some movement in front of him and he looked up. He had to fight with every cell in his body not let his jaw drop as a million thoughts sped through his head. From 'figures, just my luck' to 'will he talk to me?', going through 'god, he looks gorgeous' and 'stop hoping he'll talk to you!', and in the midst of it all Kurt couldn't help but feel amused at the irony of it all. That the moment he started feeling a little bit better, the think that set everything off would be here. He just didn't know if it was bad or good.

Blaine Anderson waved – a little bit like he had that first time on the bus – and Kurt couldn't help a chuckle. Boy, the man really was hopeless. Before Kurt knew it he was chuckling and he forced himself to look back to his book, struggling between wanting to be left alone to his quiet newfound peace, and wanting him to come up and talk to him. When Anderson picked up his own book and started reading Kurt was a little disappointed and he only managed to resist from looking up for a little while. Of course that when he did look so did Anderson, and he was a little startled at getting caught and didn't manage to control his blush as he looked away, nervous. He recognized this feeling. He hadn't felt like it a long time ago, but he knew it like the back of his hand. The small butterflies, the heat at the back of his neck and the clammy hands. And he wanted to feel like this was a good thing, like this was something to be happy and excited about, but it was still a little soon for such optimism.

He was so deep in thought he didn't notice when the seat opposite his was taken.

"Hi." The voice snapped Kurt out of it and he had to keep every inch of him in check as he slowly looked up from his book, sighing as if he was annoyed. He was taken aback by the eagerness in Blaine Anderson's eyes. Because he could see them now – in fair detail. And they shone excited but nervous and Kurt was already tired just thinking the self control he would have to have in the next few minutes not to just get lost in them or say something horribly stupid like 'look me in the eye and ask me if I need help again, please!'

"Hi."

"I'm Blaine."

"Ok." He chose not to remind him he was already well aware of that fact. After all that would be admitting to having stolen his wallet.

He could see Blaine starting to become more nervous and apprehensive then excited. He felt a little bad about it, but he knew it was probably best this way. He continued, anyway, and one had to give it to him – he was persistent "I don't really care that you stole my wallet, anymore."

"I didn't." He shrugged without looking at Blaine.

"I just… I think I wanna take you out on a date."

Of all the things he thought Blaine would say, this was not one of them. Maybe it was one of the one that, deep down, Kurt had wanted most to hear – but it was not one he expected. It was so… unusually normal "What?"

"I just do…" Blaine shrugged "I'm not very good at this flirting thing, so bear with me… I think it's the fact that you're like a breath of fresh air in my life, because you're not trying to use me and take advantage of my idiotic personality like everybody else in my life." Blaine scratched his head and he looked so endearing and Kurt wanted to slap himself for thinking that "I don't even know why I'm telling you this…"

"Wait, hold on a sec." he straightened himself on his chair and put his book down, trying to buy himself time to think, collect his thoughts, straighten everything out "So you're saying I stole your wallet but never took advantage of you?"

"Hmmm"

"Either I did take your wallet by taking advantage of how love struck you seemed at the time and flirting shamelessly to provide distraction, or I didn't take your wallet and really did trip over my own feet falling onto you and taking advantage of the moment itself, and not you, to flirt shamelessly with you. You can't have both." _Or I never really meant to take advantage of anything, but sabotaged myself in a cruel subconscious self-reminder that I can have nice things._

"I never thought of it that way…"

"Right…" Kurt smiled, keeping up his charade of smugness and detachment, and he really did deserve some prize.

"So, let's assume, for argument's sake, then, that you did not take my wallet…" Blaine said at once, his voice almost brushing desperation "Would you go out with me then?" he leaned forward slightly, a puppy look taking over his nervous face and Kurt really didn't know how he managed to keep his cool.

"But then your whole reasoning for breath of fresh airs flies out the window…" he smirked, proud of both his self-control and cold, quick wit.

Blaine shrugged, slightly embarrassed "Well, then. It's not just that. You're… I… You've got something about you."

That was that. That was the moment it broke. Of course it was that. Of Kurt had _something_. Of course this was just a game for Blaine. Of course Kurt was just the mysterious slightly dubious stranger that was just here to make things interesting. Of course he'd been trying to avoid giving Blaine some kind of depth and the moment he stopped Blaine would prove him just right. Of course.

"You're insane… Just a couple of weeks ago you wanted to bring me in to the police!"

"I… I've nicknamed you." _My Very Hot Affair With A Small Time Crook…? _"Pretty Blue Eyes."

Kurt couldn't help the surprise that took him over. It was actually pretty sweet. But it didn't matter. It was still Anderson not even realizing there was more to Kurt than just the guy who steals wallets. That there was so much more than that and he had no idea and all he saw in Kurt was either a hot adventure or a pathetic charity case, and neither of those warmed Kurt up inside, true as one of them might be, and appealing as the other kind of was.

"But it's big… it's three words… so it's a lot of trouble to say it… or think it… or whatever. So, I was wondering what was your name."

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Oh…" Kurt barely felt the pang of guilt as Blaine's eyes immediately fell, staring at his hands, not even nervous, but just flat out disappointed, and almost defeated.

"Ok, let's say for argument's sake I did steal your wallet. You look like a nice, honest living kind of guy. Why would you ever take someone like me out on a date?" _Here you go, Blaine, last chance. Don't blow it up._

Blaine snapped his head up, hope relighting his eyes. "I'm… a sucker, which is why everyone always takes advantage of me… for charity cases, and my first instinct with you was to want to help you get back on your feet, make an honest man of yourself…"

"I don't need your charity."

"Let me finish…" Blaine grimaced "but then I got to thinking about how you seemed like exactly the kind of person who doesn't want any help at all. I offered you help and you refused, when you could've just as easily as you stole my wallet have me paying for a lunch willingly."

"Your point being?"

"We're the exact opposite of our comfort zones, aren't we?" Blaine shrugged, his voice a little stronger and smile staring to buil "I mean, I'm used to jumping from charity case to charity case… all I do is try to fix things and people… and when they're fixed they usually just up and leave me because I apparently have nothing else to offer than my obvious lack of a backbone."

"Why are you telling a complete stranger all of this? Are you looking to get yourself killed?" For someone who claimed _Kurt _was the charity case he was making a poor effort at not being one himself.

Blaine continued, unfazed and Kurt was a little impressed "You, on the other hand, are used to keeping everyone far away – you don't want to need help. Am I right?"

Kurt didn't answer. Of course it was true. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"So maybe we're exactly right for each other."

So maybe Blaine didn't want to help Kurt, per se. But he still thought he needed help. And it just made everything worse. Because it was both options. Blaine thought he was a charity case and even though he wasn't exactly applying for the job of fixer he was pretty much interested in the 'breath of fresh air' that something between them would be – in other words, he wanted an adventure.

"That's a nice theory you got there, Blaine. Did you hear all about it on Oprah?" He didn't even manage to keep the bitterness off his words and he wondered how long would it take until he was crying, because, dammit if every time he talked to Blaine Anderson he would cry! "I didn't steal your wallet, but if I had I'd be offended by the idea that that means I need anyone's help whether you're offering or not."

"Are you saying you steal wallets for fun?" Blaine said in disbelief, half laughing.

"I'm saying I won't go on a date with you." he shot Blaine a glare before snatching up his book and his bag and stomping out the coffee shop, managing to keep his tears away until he was outside and around the block.

He's calm when he gets home, but he still ignores Sebastian, who's stepping out the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips and a smug smile on his lips. He goes straight to his bedroom and closes the door. He knows better than to talk to Sebastian at times like these – it always makes him feel worse.

He lies awake staring at the ceiling and wondering if there's a way for a person to choose to be happy, and to choose not read into every little thing other people do or say like it's a damn puzzle and everything has to mean something. He thinks there was a time when he could do that and he tries to remember. If it were five years ago Kurt would've gladly took on Blaine Anderson's help, because, truth be told, he needed someone to talk to, someone who'd understand what he needed to say, and who'd say what he needed to hear. Five years ago Kurt would've known better than to turn away from helping hand and an understanding smile.

Why did he have to assume the worst in everyone – how could he take someone as obviously pure as Blaine Anderson and make him out to be the bad guy? Yes, he reason, he was presumptuous and condescending and judgmental, but he was not ill-intentioned. There was not a bad bone in that body, and for Kurt to start imagining them wasn't right either. Sure, it was an easy attack, it was an easy excuse to keep himself away from something that could easily be the best or the worst thing to happen to him, but it was bogus and he knew it.

It was just a cheap attempt at covering up his cowardice – and maybe that's what really hurt Kurt, how much of a coward he'd become. So afraid of the downfall he never even_ looked _at the hill. So much of a coward he'd settle for cheap and easy Sebastian for the little validation he could give – because as long as he knew what Sebastian was there was no getting hurt, and, most of all, as long as Sebastian knew what he was, there was no hurting.

_But to what cost?_

There was a creaking noise and Kurt turned to see Sebastian peeking through. Kurt considered pretending he was asleep but he figured it'd be even worse.

"What do you want?" He sighed.

"What do you think I want?"

"Didn't you fuck Peter this afternoon?" Kurt rolled his eyes and shifted further away as Sebastian climbed onto the bed.

"Yes. And now I was thinking about it and I got horny again." He chuckled "Ugh… Horny, I hate that word."

"Yes, well, go be horny somewhere else." Kurt turned on his side, his back to Sebastian "I'm not in the mood."

"You're not in the mood?"

"No, not today, not tomorrow… I'm not. Just leave." There were no sounds or movements "Please."

Kurt felt an arm wrapping itself around his waist and Sebastian's drawled out voice was uncomfortably close to his ear, breath ghosting against his skin "Come on, Kurt…"

He clenched his jaw and gripped Sebastian's hand, almost strong enough to bruise "I said no." he turned to face him, the picture of determination-

"You're no fun."

"Well, I'm not a toy, so." Kurt spat "And you're a whore. A fucking whore."

"That would make you my number one client." Sebastian snapped, finally jumping off the bed.

"Consider this the termination of our contract then."

"Fine." Sebastian sighed irritably "Like I care. I don't need you… You… however…"

"Have other things to worry about then sex."

"Aren't we deep and thoughtful today…"

Kurt wanted to punch him, instead he clenched his jaw and muttered through gritted teeth "Please leave."

"What happened? Found a pretty boy who won't put out with someone like you?"

"Get the_ fuck_ out."

"Whatever, you'll be begging tomorrow."

xXxXxXx

**Please don't kill me for what I did to Burt (or Kurt). *Hides away.***


	4. Kurt's side part 2

**Onwards to the second half of Kurt's side of things!**

xXxXxXx

"Well you've been in a shit mood for weeks." Sebastian drawls as Kurt goes past him towards the fridge without so much as a good morning.

"I'm trying this new thing."

"What is it?"

"Not talking to assholes."

"Oh, so you're not talking to yourself, then."

"No, I figure I should give myself some space." Kurt rolled his eyes. It wasn't even like he was lying. Kurt had been focusing on school as much as he could lately, trying to get his head off things a little bit and not try so hard to understand everything life threw at him. Sebastian had been particularly disappointed when indeed Kurt had not come begging after that night and everyday that passed in the exact same fashion he was more and more annoyed. But Kurt was proud of himself, and things were starting to look up. He'd stopped stealing, he'd stopped fucking Sebastian, he'd stopped over thinking everything and everyone, and it felt like his head was lot lighter.

He shot Sebastian a triumphant smile, knowing how annoying that would be for him and grabbed an apple before leaving for school. Classes were good, the weather was good, the streets were good, and Kurt was in a good mood when he left school so he didn't want to ruin it by going home to Sebastian. He decided to stop for dinner at his favorite restaurant – he could pick up a book on the way there, he'd finished the last one over the weekend.

He was sitting down and eating his salad, quietly, when he heard them. One voice he didn't know, but the other one he knew all too well. He almost smiled as he recognized it.

"I mean, I got nothing against black people, of course, I got some friends who are black, but you can't honestly tell me I'd have been right in hiring a black guy to take care of my house while I was on vacation, am I right?"

"I… huh… I mean… I wouldn't know." Blaine answered, and Kurt almost wanted to laugh. He listened for a while. He chuckled silently as the unknown man – the Douche, in Kurt's head (and surely in Blaine's as well) ordered dessert without even asking Blaine if he wanted, and he observed that Blaine had said about one word for every thirty the other said. Before the Douche had the bright idea of suggesting they go someplace else or catch a movie, Kurt took pity on Blaine, got up from his seat (left a twenty on the table) went towards the front door and came back half jogging, towards Blaine's table.

"Blaine?" he tried to sound breathless and as Blaine turned to look at him, he figured he didn't really need to try. How could this man always seem to catch him off guard even when he was expecting it?

"Pret-Hey!" Kurt almost laughed, but kept himself in check, merely sparing a glance at Blaine's date – a tall, built guy with really short blond hair and small grey eyes. The Douche didn't suit Blaine at all, Kurt thought. He looked dumb, and shallow – he wouldn't be able to appreciate how special someone like Blaine was, and he would never deserve –_whoah! Where you going with this, Kurt?_

Kurt shook away his thoughts "I'm so happy I found you!" He gasped "I've-We've been looking for you forever, why is your cell phone off?"

"Huh… my…" He willed Blaine to catch on and he was surprised when Blaine did so fairly quickly and just as smoothly "I'm on a date, so…"

"I know, silly, I did find you, didn't I? I just thought it wasn't one of those 'turn your cell phone off' kind of dates. Didn't know it was that serious." Might as well tease him a little bit.

"Oh, well…" Blaine searched for words

"You are needed, anyway." he sighed "at the hospital. My sister went into labor and she will kill someone if her cutie of a sperm donor isn't there to witness the gore."

"Oh… Oh! Oh my God!" Blaine gasped, convincingly enough, getting up at once. He took out his wallet – Kurt kind of hated how new and out of place it looked in his hand, even if he knew it was a weird thing to think about such a simple thing as a wallet – and pulled out a couple of bills "I'm sorry, Jason, I gotta run. This was nice. I'll call you some day. Here." Blaine handed him the cash and turned around, his expression still of fake apology, and he placed a hand on Kurt's back to guide him gently towards the exit. Kurt's skin burned where Blaine's hand was, but it was a good kind of burning and Kurt didn't want it to end as much as he knew it should.

"You looked like you were having the time of your life, back there. I couldn't help myself, I'm a born killjoy." Kurt teased, once they were out of there.

"Oh, yeah, I was falling in love with him, alright." Blaine half groaned, and it was the first time Kurt saw him actually being sarcastic, and as kind of sexy and cute as it was, it didn't really suit him and felt a little out of place, and somehow Kurt liked that about Blaine.

"So, empty headed and tidbit racist… not your type, huh?"

"No, definitely not." He chuckled "How do you know that, though?"

"I was sitting at the booth next to yours." He shrugged starting to walk and Blaine followed "I had fun, for the most part, but then I took pity on you."

"Yeah, thank you. I'm forever in your debt."

"Don't mention it." Kurt smiled, drowning out the voice that told him to bid goodbye and go home. He didn't want to. He wanted to say. He'd stay.

"I thought you'd still be mad at me." Blaine said sheepishly, almost blushing.

"For…?"

"What I said…"

"Oh. That." He shrugged, a small wave of bitterness and guilt washed over him "I thought about it. You were being nice. A little condescending and judgmental, but nice. And I overreacted a little." That was the understatement of the year, but Kurt was never one to admit he was wrong, so Blaine was already getting more than what you'd expect.

Blaine smiled and it was nice - Kurt decided he really liked it when Blaine smiled "Does this mean you'll consider going on a date with me?"

"Would this count as a date?"

"If I knew your name…"

Kurt considered it, he really did. He almost told him his name. But he knew better than to just throw every caution to the wind. He was here – that was good enough, that was progress enough, for now. So instead he smiled and nodded "So Blaine, what do you do for a living?"

They talked for what felt like both long and little time – long because he just felt like he'd been talking with this man for years, like their conversation was one of a lifetime and not of a few hours and a couple of random (lucky…?) encounters, and little because before he knew it it was really late and he was reaching his neighborhood.

He didn't want to but he had to, so he stopped walking and awkwardly cleared his throat "Hmm… so this is… almost my street… So…"

"Oh… right." Blaine seemed a little disappointed and Kurt's heart swelled at that.

"This was nice, Blaine. You're nice, when you're not being pretentious and condescending."

"Thanks, I guess…" Blaine chuckled, blushing adorably "Do you want me to walk you to your door."

Kurt huffed a laugh at the seemingly true gentleman in front of him "That would kind of defeat the purpose of me stopping you here and refusing to give you my name, now, wouldn't it?"

"Right…" Blaine mumbled, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck embarrassed.

It took all of Kurt's self-control not to just reach out, take his hand and say 'what the hell, why not!', instead he just smiled "Well, good night, Blaine." He made the mistake of reaching out for Blaine's shoulder and it was hard to take his hand away. _Get a grip, Kurt_, he thought as he reluctantly turned away and started walking.

"Hey wait! Wait!" he heard Blaine's urgent voice and turned to find him running the few steps between them.

"Yeah?"

"That day… that… first day." Kurt's heart sank a little at the memory, at what he'd done and the shame and regret that always accompanied the thought "You flirted with me. Was that just a distraction, or did you…?"

"Mean it?" He guessed.

"Yeah…"

"Both." He let out the honest answer before he could even think, and then there he was smiling and unable to contain his feelings "I really did find you handsome and endearingly cute in a 'too good to be real' kind of way, because you seemed like you'd just stepped out of a romantic comedy." He chuckled.

Blaine's eyes became wide and almost hopeful and Kurt was trying really hard at not squealing or just lunging and kissing him, because, for as many voices in his head that told him to go for it, there were a lot more that reminded him that – for some reason – that would be incredibly stupid "So… why'd you do it, then? Why did you just steal my wallet? Why didn't you talk to me, or give me your number instead. _Obviously_ I was interested."

And that was it. That was the question Kurt didn't know how to answer without hating everything about himself and his life. And that was the question that answered all those voices that told him to turn around, go home and forget about Blaine with a very definitive 'yeah, you're right, let's go'.

"I…" His heart kept sinking as he struggled to find the words for an answer, only to keep grasping at straws. He settled for the best he could find – which wasn't all that good "That… That kind of thing… doesn't happen to me."

"What kind of thing?" Blaine frowned in confusion.

"The handsome, bashful and_ oh so nice _kind of guy… he doesn't fall for me. Or at least not after he gets to know me." He shrugged, trying to pass off nonchalance when he felt anything but.

"Don't you think he should get a say in it?" Blaine's hesitant smile nearly melted away Kurt's cautious resolution "I'm getting to know you, and I like you, so far." Then again, it was Blaine's own words that pulled Kurt back to reality.

"So far." He repeated softly, careful to keep the bitterness swallowing him whole off his voice and his smile. _This ends now._ "Good night, Blaine." He turned and walked away.

"Good night, Pretty Blue Eyes!" Kurt couldn't help the bittersweet laugh that washed over him and he wanted to cry as much as he wanted to laugh and run back to Blaine and let him kiss him and tell him that he was worth it and that he wasn't as bad as he thought, and he could love him.

But he just kept on walking, hands fisted and deep in his pockets, fast crisp strides. He opened the front floor, slid inside and closed it behind him with a sigh. The clear memory of Blaine's voice calling after him 'Pretty Blue Eyes' pulled a smile onto his face.

"You got the lovey-dovey look on your face…" Sebastian drawled, from where he leant against the living room door.

Kurt shot him a look before shrugging off his coat.

"Does he know you're fucked in the head?"

"Shut up, Sebastian…"

"I'm just saying, what's the point in both of you getting your hopes up. You're just gonna end up hurting him when things start getting serious and you cut and run."

"I'm not sleeping with you, just leave it alone!" Kurt rolled his eyes, ignoring the sting Sebastian's words left.

"Whatever, Kurt. You're not a sex god, I'll survive."

Kurt held his breath in annoyance striding over to his bedroom without sparing one single glance at Sebastian.

Of course Sebastian was right, and it wasn't even like he was shedding light on something Kurt hadn't realized on his own. Of course Blaine was nothing but a daydream fantasy for Kurt, and of course nothing could ever happen. Kurt knew this. He knew it.

That's why, for the nest days or even weeks, he allowed his mind to drift off into fantasies of afternoons sitting in the park with Blaine, just talking without ever running out of subjects; fantasies of evenings on the couch watching bad reality TV and making fun of people; fantasies of candlelit romantic dinners where they just stared at each other, completely absorbed in their beauty and emotions; fantasies of full nights of quiet moans and thrilled gasps, and exploring hands, and eager tongues, and whispers of _I love you_ and _I want you_.

Because he knew it, there should be no problems about daydreaming.

In hindsight Kurt should've known that'd been a bad idea, allowing his head to fill with those fantasies, almost convincing himself that they were possible, because Blaine liked him… _so far._

When, after a few days, he saw Blaine behind the wheel of his car, stopped at a red light, Kurt was smiling before he could catch himself. And it took the world around him to yank him out of it. It was silly, really, and he was so well aware of it (even if he wasn't, the fact that he was roommates with Sebastian reminded him constantly, and he daydreamed about moving out of that house almost as often as he did of Blaine).

After that split second encounter he spent his classes mostly thinking up scenarios in his head – future, past and present. Most didn't include the last two years, most included a Kurt that might have one day deserved the kind of happiness that Blaine might bring with his kind eyes and bashful smiles. He alternated between longing sighs and defeated sighs. How fair was it for Blaine to come into his life like that and pull it inside out, huh? How fair was it for Blaine to stir these emotions and these dreams that Kurt didn't know he still had?

He was eyeing his left hand, trying to imagine a wedding ring around his finger, frowning at how odd it would seem, but smiling at how… in place it _might maybe, possibly _feel, when he opened the door to his usual café. He flexed his fingers and shook away his thoughts as he approached the line, only to gasp and nearly drop his notebooks.

"A medium drip, please." If Kurt hadn't recognized the back of his head, he sure as hell knew that voice by heart now – it haunted his dreams, asleep _and_ awake.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes… " Blaine nodded "I was wondering, though, if you could tell me something."

"That'll be three fifty." The cashier informed him and Blaine took his wallet out of his breast pocket "What would you like to know?"

"I have a guy in my… hm… class," Kurt's chest tightened and he didn't know what would be worse, Blaine looking for him, or looking for someone else "And I needed to borrow his notes, I've been told he takes very good notes – but he hasn't been to class lately, and I don't know where else to look, I saw him here once. Maybe he comes here often…? He's tall and lean, he's got brown hair, usually carefully styled. And he's very pale and has blue eyes." Kurt bit his lips at Blaine's hesitant description of himself. Or was it? It was awfully vague.

"I'm sorry, sir, but a lot of guys fill that description."

"He wears expensive designer clothes…?" _Not so vague, still kind of me._

"I'm sorry." The cashier sighed, looking mildly annoyed now.

"And he's got this really soft, clear voice…?" Kurt bit back the irrational smile that wanted to break into his face. It'd been a while since he heard anyone compliment him on his voice. Actually, outside of Glee Club, in High School, no one ever had.

"Sir, I really don't know, and there's a line forming now."

Kurt saw Blaine nodding in defeat and sighed, rolling his eyes before plastering on the best nonchalant smile he could muster "Oh, don't mind me!" he said "I always do enjoy a good case of stalking! Maybe I could help."

"Oh!"Blaine turned and his impossibly bright, amber eyes knocked Kurt's breath away. He was blushing. It was adorable and endearing and… beautiful, really.

"You're incredibly articulate today." Kurt managed, keeping his voice and his expression under check, trying not to laugh, or chuckle, or, let's be honest, giggle, as he turned to the girl at the register "A grand non fat mocha, please." He paused as he paid for his drink and turned back to Blaine "So, you know my usual coffee house and you know my neighborhood. It's getting a little too close for my liking."

"Why? What do you think I'm gonna do with that information? Or your name, for that matter?"

He shrugged "Stalk me?"

He saw Blaine deflect a little, his expression faltering, before he mustered up determination once more "No, seriously." Kurt took his drinks and started towards the exit, wondering how much more advances Blaine was he going to be able to take before Kurt caved and… set himself up for the biggest failure of them all. Blaine followed him closely at once "We talked for a long time the other day. You know I'm not gonna… You know I'm a nice guy. And maybe I'm not hot enough or exciting, maybe I'm not your type, but…"

"Blaine." How could he even think that was the problem? How does one person have their wallet stolen and then start pursuing the offender and think the problem is _theirs_?

"Why won't you just go on a date with me? Or at least tell me your name." Blaine whined.

Kurt almost hesitated before opening the door, needing the rush of air and noise of the city to his face, to keep him safe and grounded "I… I can't…" he muttered, stepping out to the streets and walking briskly.

"Why not?" he heard Blaine jogging up to catch up.

"Because." He said, sticking out his arm, hailing for a cab.

"That's not an answer."

"And why do I owe you an answer?" he snapped as a cab finally pulled over. He didn't want to snap, and he didn't want to hurt Blaine, but if he didn't Blaine would hurt him. Maybe not on purpose –_ certainly_ not on purpose –, but he would, because no matter what, Kurt would hurt Blaine, a lot more than just a simple scratch like this one, and a truly hurting Blaine would be too painful to watch.

"I just… I want to get to know you!" Blaine pressed, stepping closer and reaching to take Kurt's hand, but he recoiled, scrambling to get climb inside the car.

"Stop putting fantasies in your head! Stop putting fantasies in_ my_ head!"

Kurt gasped at how hard he'd hit that door, how hard he'd yelled at Blaine… He buried his face in his hands as the cab pulled away.

"I don't care if he just insulted your mother, but that's no way to close my door, Mr." Kurt peeked through his fingers to look at the man's eyes in the reflection mirror, there were frowning and accusing.

"I'm sorry."

"Yes. Where to?"

Kurt took a deep breath rubbing his face before dropping his hands and sighing out his address.

He spent the next two weeks harshly scowling himself whenever the name Blaine popped up in his head. Granted, there was a lot of scowling, but it would be better than a repeat of the same mistake. He would not daydream, because, admit or not, the last time he had it had lead to hope. And hope was only good when there was a chance of getting it, and… there wasn't. Was it? No.

How could there be a chance for Blaine to actually like him? Not have an irrational crush on him because he was a mysterious and strange misrepresentation of danger and adventure, but actually _like him_? And how could there be any chance of them actually staying together once they did get to know each other? How could there be a chance for Blaine to stick around?

Even if… Even if you took Blaine out of the equation? How could there be a chance for Kurt to be happy? There was no such thing – life didn't have happy endings. Sooner or later it'd all coming crashing down around him and, Blaine or not, he would be in deep shit. This was the story of his life. The moment he thought he had it good, all hell broke loose – he'd get himself hoping and believing, and then life bitch slapped him right across his face.

He'd daydreamed about Finn, foolishly hoped about him and then one word, one lousy word and Kurt was crushed and curling in on himself crying himself to sleep for days. He'd daydream about Glee Club solos, he'd hope to get them (he'd work for them!), but week after week Rachel would be singing up on that stage and he never once had a chance at a competition solo. He'd daydreamed about a boyfriend, someone who understood what he had to go through every day, the war he fought every minute, he hoped for it with every guy that showed him a kind smile, and every time he'd be just as alone as before.

He daydreamed of bringing a boyfriend home, of marrying the love of his life, of having beautiful perfect children running around him, hugging and kissing him, and he'd hoped to have all of that with Burt smiling by his aide saying 'you did good, kid, you did good!' before scooping up one of his grandkids and showering them with kisses and laughter. But Burt died without so much as a wave to a son-in-law or grandkids he'd so desperately wanted and Kurt was left with crushed hopes. Again, and again, and again.

So, for two weeks Kurt refused to daydream. Because that lead to hoping. And hoping hadn't turned out too well so far.

On Monday he came in for a cup of coffee, stressed over the hundreds of projects he was juggling, turning ideas in his head shooting them down as quickly as he thought of them, he placed his order, made to pay it but before he knew it a hand had shot before him and slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter.

"So now that I've paid for your coffee we are officially on a date." Blaine's voice registered before his grin did.

Kurt didn't know what to think, let alone say or do for a moment. So, he took a moment to breathe and get over his surprise. This was the last thing he needed. "Hello Blaine."

"Hi, Pretty Blue Eyes. How are you?" Kurt hated how his heart still skipped a beat at the nickname.

"I'd be better if you'd let me pay for my drink."

"But then this wouldn't be a date." Blaine shrugged and kept his beam in place "Here you go!" he handed Kurt his drink.

This time Kurt knew what to do, however. He had an objective. Say a clear and resounding _No_. Not a 'maybe', not a 'I wish I could…' just a no. "What if I had a boyfriend, huh? Ever think of that?"

"Well… do you?"

"Not the point."

"So no Hugh Grant, then." Blaine smirked and Kurt frowned, lingering just a second on those words before choosing to ignore them. He didn't need to understand Blaine, he just needed Blaine to understand him. As he told him No.

"Listen, I don't know what your game here is, but you can't really expect me to think you really want to date me after… the way we met. And this is, honestly, all a little bit too crazy for my liking. So, good bye, Blaine, have a nice life."

"Wait, wait!" Blaine called after him, and Kurt almost cursed his feet for stopping and turning him around.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me."

"Jesus…!"

Blaine smiled, for some odd reason, and Kurt didn't know how many ways he could think of to make him understand this wasn't a game, that he wouldn't change his mind. Kurt frowned as he watched the other man scribble something on a piece of paper "Call me and we'll figure something out."

"Well, first of all I don't need you to give me your number because I have it-"

Blaine stood confused for a second before his face broke into a grin. _Seriously, what the hell? _"Wait, I thought you said you didn't have my wallet anymore!"

"I…" _Oh god, don't tell him you still have his wallet hidden in your dresser! That's pathetic, and embarrassing, and worse, that would eliminate all of the ways you could think of to say No… because that is one fat sign saying I HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU! And don't look like he just __**caught **__you! Great, now he knows he's right._

"So you know a lot about me, I know nothing about you. That doesn't seem fair. Please." Blaine smiled, and for the first time it wasn't adorable, endearing or boyish. It was flat out charming; Cary Grant, Marlon Brando, Paul Newman charming.

Kurt tried to remain unaffected. "Blaine Anderson, twenty four years old, originally from Ohio, and with a membership card to a health club that seems to have never been touched, and with a taste for preppy expensive clothing stores. Yes, I even know your address. And yes you look a lot like your mother and you keep way too many useless papers in your wallet. I can know a lot about a person just from their wallet. Doesn't mean I know _them_, and doesn't mean I can trust them."

"So, have dinner with me and I'll fill in the blanks."

"Blaine!" He sighed frustrated "You don't ask the person who steals your wallet out on a date! You just don't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because… " _I MIGHT FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I CAN'T BECAUSE WHEN I BREAK YOU AND YOU LEAVE ME IT WILL HURT TOO MUCH!_ "It's ridiculous!"

"Didn't you enjoy that other night we talked? I did! It was amazing! I wanna do it again!"

"I… That's not the point!"

"Did you like it?"

"I…" _I liked it, I loved it, it was the best night I had in years!_ "Of course I liked it, Blaine, what do you think? Yes, I had fun! Yes, you're charming and funny, mostly when you're not even trying to be funny, but… That means nothing, because I can't do this! I made a mistake that night, and I'm sorry, but that's it!"

"Why can't you just accept that I'm just…? There's… There's something about you and about us, and I need to… What's so wrong with _one _date? Huh? Just one date!"

"Blaine. I screw things up, ok? That's what I do. Everything in my life I screw it up! Everything I touch turns to shit! Do you wanna turn to shit, Blaine, do you?" he was nearly screaming at the top of his lungs, a few people passing by were turning to stare and frown and raise their eyebrows.

"I… Hum… I…"

He sighed, trying to bring his voice back to a normal level, but it was a bigger challenge than he anticipated "I am not interesting or challenging… I'm not a mystery…! I'm fucked up. Simple as that."

"Why… why are you mad at me?"

"Because you don't get to be all smiles and blushes with me! You don't to get to be_ nice_ and tell me that you want to take me out on a date because that's not my life! That's not something I can just _have_, Blaine."

"Why not?"

"Have you not been listening?" He almost pulled at his own hair, groaning in frustration, trying to keep himself from slapping or punching Blaine "I take things and I ruin them! My mom, my dad, my… my life!"

"I don't… That's not…" Blaine was grasping at straws, Kurt knew it. He just didn't know why he suddenly felt so disappointed that Blaine was losing the argument. Why it suddenly crushed his heart that Blaine didn't have a good enough come back for him.

"Do yourself a favor and stay away from me. Find yourself some pretty boy who has a good head on his shoulders and doesn't steal people's wallets."

"That's not what I want!"

"Goodbye, Blaine." Kurt said with as much finality as he could, trying his best at keeping tears at bay. He turned to leave.

"So you're just gonna stay away from everything that would make you happy because it might fall to shit?" Blaine called after him. Kurt couldn't make himself turn around but he stopped, not trusting his knees "Life's imperfection doesn't make it ok to be a coward!"

Blaine's words cut his chest like a knife and shaking legs or not he couldn't stand to be there anymore. He left, eyes blurring with tears because was that all that it came down to?

Cowardness.

He'd thought it before. But Blaine's voice made it so much stronger. He thought he had control over it. He thought no one knew. He thought it was his secret, how much of a coward he'd become. But Blaine knew….

His mind replayed Blaine's words over and over again as he alternated between running and walking home. Every time they would cut him just as harshly, because, just as fiercely, all those times Burt had told him and congratulated him on how brave he was were coming back like a wall of bricks crashing over him, and he couldn't breathe.

What had he become?

What had he let himself become? An emotionless shadow weaving through life without any real meaning or purpose, without any fight left in him because it hurt too much to lose. How easy had it been to forget how good it felt to fight no matter the outcome of the battle?

Finn's voice joined Burt's, then Rachel's, and Mercedes, and Tina… Everyone he had ever known… before… before he let himself fall into this stupor of a person. This excuse for a man.

And what was he so afraid of then? His own happiness? How volatile it was? So what? Kurt had been part of New Directions, he'd surfed those treacherous flames and came out beaming and holding a National Championship trophy. Burt had had a heart attack when he was sixteen and Kurt had never stopped looking for solutions until he found one. Karofsky had tried to push him back into the closet, all fists and booming voice, and Kurt never once shied away from his own personality. Kurt had lived his whole life in a small cow town that refused to see him for who he was and he hadn't just survived that – he'd used that to make himself stronger, and he got out of there, to the city he loved the most, to the city of his dreams. And he'd gotten into his first choice for college. He was one of the best students in his classes and he'd had Professors smiling with 'promising' and 'can't wait!' on their lips.

Time and time again he'd had his dreams shot down. Time and time again he built news ones. Better ones.

Of course his biggest dream hadn't worked out, but it never would. Living your whole life with everyone you love by your side would never work out. Burt staying alive for the rest of Kurt's life would've never been true. Yes, it sucked that it happened when Kurt felt the happiest and the safest. It'd been the hardest punch to the gut the world had ever thrown at him. And, for two years, it'd knocked the breath out of him. But he needed to breathe again. He couldn't keep suffocating. He needed air. He needed life.

Kurt wiped his tears away before pushing his keys into his door and swinging it open. Sebastian was lounging on the couch, television blabbing off and he worked on sketches. Kurt smiled at him and announced cheerfully "I'm moving out."

"What?"

"I'm moving out!" _God that feels good!_

He almost laughed as he made his away to his bedroom and yanked his closet open.

"You're moving out?" Sebastian repeated wryly, moving from the couch to stand by his bedroom door.

"Are you not acquaintanced with those words? Do you need me to explain the concept?" He shot over his shoulders and he picked armful of clothes to drop them on his mattress.

"Alright, so you're moving out. Where to?"

"I don't know. I'll crash at a friend's for a while till I figure that out."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow "Why the rush?"

"I had an epiphany." Kurt huffed, dropping his third pile of clothes on his bed "You're a horrible friend, terrible roommate and you're making me miserable."

"Was that the epiphany?"

"No." Kurt answered shortly.

"What was it?"

"That I am not_ destined _to be miserable. Therefore, I am not destined to be your roommate. So, I do not have to stand here and take every insult you throw at me, or be your sex toy whenever you can't pick up some poor unsuspecting guy at the bar."

Sebastian huffed a laughter "Is this about the wallet dude?"

"Yes and no. He might have been my catalyst, yes. But this is about everything. This is about me spending two years afraid of being happy. And yes, being happy might include a relationship with him for all I know."

"It'll never work, you'll fuck it up."

"Maybe I will, maybe he will, maybe neither of won't and we'll get married and live happily ever after. I'll never know if I don't try it. And I'll never know what it's like to live in a good house, with a good roommate if I don't try that either. And… You get my point."

"Ok… but, you know in five minutes you'll change your mind, right? You'll start thinking – really thinking – and the doubts will come back. Listen, I'm just trying to be realistic here."

"No. You're being a pessimist." Kurt said cheerfully "And I would like for you to get the hell out of my room and go back to your mediocre and uninspired drawings and leave me the hell alone. Because, yes, I want to _think_."

"Whatever…" Sebastian shook his head and sighed, turning and leaving.

Kurt kicked the door shut. Smiling to himself.

He found a pen and piece of paper and sat down.

_I'm sorry for disappointing you. I'm sorry for wasting so much time being someone you didn't even know. I'm sorry for being someone I didn't even know. I'm sorry for being sorry about all of this. I'm sorry for wasting so much energy feeling like I was disappointing you. I'm sorry for disappointing myself._

_I know now that I should be living for myself and myself alone, not for you, or some twisted memory of you I might've been trying to hold on to. You're not here so there's only myself to disappoint, anyway. I felt so trapped in everything I thought I should be and I'm not anymore. All it took was a word and I was free._

_He called me a coward and he was right. I was afraid of everything. I was afraid I would disappoint you so I did just that – I became someone you'd never be proud to call your son, just because I thought dealing with being that was easier than dealing with the constant fear of becoming it. I anticipated every mistake I thought I might make and I made it. _

_And I'm mostly sorry to blame it all on your death, on you._

_You raised me right. It was never your fault. I was the wrong one. But I couldn't ever know it'd be this hard. I couldn't anticipate how much it would hurt._

_It's not just my fault. It's life's fault, too. I can't control that, but I can do my best with it. I can try my best with it. I will._

_I remember a time when trying and failing was better than not trying at all. I used to be like that – I was your son. I haven't been your seen these two years – not really, no. But I want to. You're dead but the life you've given me isn't, so I'm still your son and right now I'm free to be that person again, and whether or not I'm making you proud I'm just going to be myself – the brave one that you used to know, the brave one I used to know. _

_So here's my to do list:_

_1. Stop sabotaging life (mostly check)_

_2. Stop feeling sorry for myself (check)_

_3. Forgive myself. (check)_

_4. Say Good bye to you (checking)_

_5. Be happy_

Kurt sighed and smiled, holding his last letter close to his chest. He felt as a single happy tear rolled down his cheeks and he allowed himself five minutes of quiet contemplation before opening his desk drawer and taking out the pile of undelivered letters, joining this last one to it, and taking a white silk string to lace them together. He tucked them into a corner of his suitcase and proceeded to pile his stack or back jeans on them. He had an idea of what to do the next time he visited Ohio. Which reminded him.

He picked up his cell, sat on the edge of his bed dialing and smiled nervously as it rang.

"Kurt? Hi!" Finn's voice came from the other end, and the confused smile was audible.

"Hey, I was calling because… I know it's short notice but… And I haven't talked to Rachel, yet, I'll call her right after you, but anyway, I was thinking maybe I… is the offer for Christmas still up?"

"Are you- Of course, dude!" Finn nearly shouted "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think- I think I will. It's been a while and I really do miss you guys, and… I'm just… needing… home."

"That's so awesome!" In a way Kurt was almost glad that Finn wouldn't get the whole meaning behind it. But he also knew he's brother wasn't as dumb as he looked, he knew Finn could be insightful if he wanted. Maybe Finn _would_ get the whole meaning behind it. Maybe Finn knew better than to ask Kurt what had really changed, maybe he didn't need to ask.

"Yeah, so, I'll just… ask Rach about that ride, now, ok…"

"Yeah, sure! Mom'll be so excited to hear about this, Kurt, she was kind of needing a little pick me up. This is really great, thank you, man, really."

"Alright, bye bye, I'll check in with you later."

"Bye!"

Kurt hung up with a smile and dialed his next number. "Kurt?" Rachel's voice spoke.

"Hey, Rach, how are you?"

"I'm great, how are you?" he could hear the surprise in her voice.

"I'm… better. Listen. Finn told me you're driving to Lima for Christmas… Would you care for some company?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I promise I'll pitch in for the gas and I'm sure we won't have any trouble with stereo unless you've suddenly stopped listening to Show tunes and I… suppose there's a lot of conversation we can catch up on…"

"That… sounds lovely, Kurt. I'd love your company!"

"Great!" He beamed with a sigh "I've missed you, Rachel…" he added before he could stop himself.

"Oh…!" she gasped, surprised once more "I… I've missed you too, Kurt. So much."

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"What happened?" her soft half-defeated tone let Kurt know she understood his apology at once "We used to be best friends Kurt, and you just… shut me out. You shut everyone out."

"I'm sorry. I was… I didn't… I'm back, Rach. I really am. I'm doing my best. And it took a lot to come back but I did and I missed you, I missed everyone, but you most of all, Rach." His voice broke and he was both happy and miserable just like that, trying to keep his breathing in check, all of his longing for years worth of friendship wasted smashing his gut.

"Kurt! Oh Kurt, shhh…" she cooed "I'm… I know things got hard for you, I just wish you'd let us help you."

"I didn't want to need help." He shrugged, his breaths still a little erratic "I wanted my dad, and he wasn't there, and if my dad couldn't help me then I didn't want anyone else's help… I had to make it on my own, and somewhere along the line I just… lost myself."

She sighed and he knew she was searching for something to say "As long as you're back."

"I am…" He smiled, bittersweet.

"Do you want to meet? I… This would be a lot easier face to face…" she chuckled, trying to ease off some tension and he wanted to hug her already.

"Actually…" he looked at his half packed suitcase and beamed "Do you have a couch I could borrow?"

Rachel was over in half an hour and they hugged and she cried and then he cried again and after they were all hugged and cried out they finished packing Kurt's things (though granted, they weren't that careful with most of it, and ended up breaking too many things – "Oh well, at least I know I won't be on Hoarders anytime soon!"). Rachel babbled on about how she's been looking for a new roommate for months since Sheila quit NYADA, and how everyone she met was just _wrong_. And Kurt found himself not just a temporary couch but a house, a bedroom of his own with a roommate that he actually cared for.

At three am they were hoisting cardboard boxes from the taxis. They'd left about half as many still in Kurt's _old_ apartment, planning on working on those the next day. It helped that they weren't moving any furniture. As they tried to make his room the least bit habitable Kurt told her about how hard it'd been for Kurt's family to afford tuition, and how he blamed himself for Burt's death because he just knew Burt had worked himself to death to make more money, how after his death Kurt had needed to find other ways to pay for tuition, and even with a part time job at the school's library he couldn't make ends meet, how he'd met Sebastian who offered him a room half the price he'd been paying before (the catch being many sleepless nights of Sebastian's headboard crashing against the wall as yet another stranger screamed and begged for more), how Sebastian had taught him how to pick pockets and how he found out he actually had a knack for it, how he'd stolen Blaine's wallet…

By the time he was telling her about Blaine they'd given up on working at all, and were instead just sitting on the bed, their backs propped up against pillows, their arms pressed together, as they nursed steaming cups of tea.

He told her about his self-imposed failure at life and how Blaine had made him question that. He asked her if he was being stupid at putting so much stock on a complete stranger and his mesmerizing eyes.

"Kurt, are you asking me about foolish feelings?" she smiled shyly before shrugging "I don't know Kurt, I was crazy about Finn in three seconds of meeting him… I think if we weren't so different we might still be together, but we just weren't meant to be. You and Blaine, on the other hand, just have to find out."

"I guess."

"And if it doesn't work out… I'll be here with ice cream and a bad romantic comedy."

He laughed "Thank you…" he sighed "I'm doing my best here, you know… Trying to keep all these doubts from becoming fears…"

"It's ok to be afraid, Kurt, just as long as you don't let it stop you from living your life." She smiled "I'm afraid, too. Afraid I'll never be good enough, afraid I won't get my big break, afraid I'm not one in a million after all, but I just push on through and keep trying. I just don't let it paralyze me."

Kurt smiled "I'll talk to him."

"Atta boy!" she laughed, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tightly.

Of course they woke up late – well past noon – but neither seemed particularly worried about cutting a day of classes as they made their way back to Kurt's to gather the rest of his stuff. They spent the day laughing, catching up and teasing each other, letting themselves get re-acquaitanced with the other and with their friendship itself. It was easy – it was like putting on a glove that first day of winter – you fumbled a little to get those fingers right but once you did it just slid right into place.

After dinner – they indulged and ordered enough Chinese for a battalion – Rachel pushed him out the door with the order to go find his Prince Charming and make _his _fairytale come true.

Kurt rolled his eyes but blushed admitting to himself that a big part of him felt that might just happen. He couldn't help it, he was dreaming and hoping again, and he couldn't help it.

He wasn't a idiot, though. And two years of pessimism had left their mark. Only now he was doing his biggest effort at just staying realistic. Not optimistic because, honestly, he couldn't just push himself that far anymore, but not pessimistic either. Just realistic. And realistically speaking there was a good chance Blaine wouldn't want to even go on one date with him.

He took a cab to Blaine's address, holding his wallet tightly in his hand. He rang but no one answered. Her rang again, longer, no one. He knocked, no one. _Ok, so, where else to look?_

Feeling like a particularly bad detective he flipped the wallet open and inspected it thoroughly for ideas.

_Gymn, no way._

_Out shopping at Saccoor Brothers, too late in the day for clothes shopping and hopefully not._

_Out for milk, probably already done that,_

_Bookshops, too many stores to look now and it's late anyway, they wouldn't be open right now._

_Wait – this address is not for a bookshop: 'they have open mics every once in a while'_

He bit his lip.

Well, it's worth a shot.

Hailing a cab he read the address to the driver and was surprised to find it was merely ten minutes from Blaine's house. He tightened his coat around himself, knowing the odds of finding Blaine here were probably scarce, before stepping inside. He took a good look around, trying to catch curly heads. For every one that failed to be Blaine he lost a little bit of hope, until music started playing and Blaine's familiar voice said "Hi… I'm… I'm Blaine."

_Life's too short to even care at all, oh_

_I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control_

_These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me, Oh oh_

_A wet world aches for a beat of a drum, Oh_

Kurt's chest tightened. Had he done that? Had he put that hurt in Blaine's voice, in Blaine's impossibly beautiful voice? Had he took out the happy twinkle in his eye and replaced it with a shining veil of tears?

_If I could find a way to see this straight_

_I'd run away_

_To some fortune that I, _

_I should have found by now_

A simple I'm sorry would never be enough to make it all ok. This wasn't enough. Kurt wasn't enough.

_I'm waiting for this cough syrup _

_to come down, come down_

What was he thinking? Thinking he could go to Blaine and have everything be fine.

Kurt bit back his own tears as he retreated.

Rachel gasped as Kurt showed up, looking miserable and defeated. "Oh no…" she said sadly "He said no…"

"No…" Kurt shook his head "I didn't ask, I didn't talk to him, he didn't see me."

"What? Why not?"

"Because he was there! He was singing and he was miserable! I did that! I made him miserable! I took the spark out of him! I can't do that to him!" Kurt shook his head frantically, stepping away from Rachel avoiding her incoming embrace and instead wrapping his own arms around himself "I know what it is to be hurt, I can deal with that, he can't! Obviously! I can't be the one to teach him that! I can't!"

"Kurt!" Rachel sighed "You don't know that!" she grabbed him by the arm and took him to the couch "You don't know how his life was before he met you, and from what he told you I don't think it was particularly happy anyway. Maybe he was sad that you_ left_ him… maybe he actually just wants a shot at you…"

"That's a lot of maybes…"

"Wasn't that the point of yesterday's little revolution, or was it all talk and no action?" Rachel said a little more harshly "I thought you said you wanted to embrace what life would throw at you, I thought you said you didn't want to quit before you even tried, that you wanted to be happy."

"No at his expense!"

"You don't know that! He doesn't know! No one knows that unless you try!"

"I don't know how to do that!" Kurt shot back. For all he thought, said and done the day before he'd never once stopped to think that… he didn't know how to try anymore.

"Then ask for help! I'm here!" She took a calming breath and smiled sweetly "Kurt, I'm here, and I won't go anywhere, and I want to help. It's not a bad thing to need help sometimes, Kurt."

He nodded half-heartedly, trying to let her words sink into the brick walls he'd spent two years building around himself. "He helps…" Kurt muttered "That's what he does… He helps everyone. He gets taken advantage of… I can't do that."

"Sounds like he needs just as much help as you do, Kurt…"

"I…"

"Kurt… Don't go back tonight. Stay here and think, and think as much as you need. Go back tomorrow, next week when you need. But let him be the judge to decide whether he can handle you or not."

Kurt lifted his eyes to find hers, sympathetic and understanding.

"He should get to choose…" she smiled "Don't take that away from him because you're scared of what the answer might be… and don't take that away from him because you're scared _for him_. He's a big boy."

"I… ok."

"Ok?"

"Ok."

That night Kurt lay awake, Rachel's arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his chest as she snored ever so lightly. He stared at the bedroom ceiling above them and chewed on his lip and thought. She was right. Of course.

It'd been easy to fall back into old patterns, and he'd been an idiot thinking change would be that easy and that quick. But he would try. He had to try. He thought of what he wanted to say to Blaine, what he needed to say and he found his fingertips itching, surprising even himself.

He'd only ever written for Burt. And in a way he felt a little guilty picking up that pen, and that paper, like he was almost tainting what he had with his dad. But he'd said his goodbyes, and what they'd had hadn't been about the letters, it'd been a lot more and no one could take that away from him. If anything, this was a prolongation of his father and how much he'd want Kurt to try his best at being happy.

_You're right. Every time I let myself be happy I always ended up disappointed, so I figured it best not be happy at all. Maybe that's me being a coward. I didn't use to be a coward, you know? I don't really want to be a coward. I want to be brave again. I just don't know how. I'd ask for your help, but you once said that people do that all the time, and that it hurts you – how they use you. I don't want to hurt you. I can handle with being hurt, but I don't know if I can handle hurting someone. I don't want to be the one to take that warmth away from you. I guess, I'm scared. Again. So. I'd understand if you say no, now. Like I said, I make things turn to shit. And you should really think about this. And do things right by you, and not me (because I'd never ask for __your__ help). But. Maybe you could ask me on a date again?_

He folded it neatly, and tucked it into Blaine's wallet. Running a finger over it he felt a shiver going through his spine – Fear? Anticipation? Thrill? Peace?

He smiled tightly to himself before climbing back to bed, kissing Rachel's forehead as she, unconsciously, wrapped her arms around him again, just as tightly. Finally he felt like he could fall asleep.

The next day he finished transporting all of his belongings to Rachel's apartment. He unpacked most of it, got his things ready to go back to classes the next day (because he couldn't really afford to miss anymore days) and thought some more. He would make sure Blaine thought things through. He would give him the wallet, tell him to read his small letter, and leave. He'd go back for an answer the next week, so Blaine could have the rest of this and the weekend to think things over.

He got dressed and ready, and headed to the bar first, hoping that Blaine would be there because he had something he needed to show him as well. If Blaine could show him hurt and pain, Kurt could show him newfound hope and freedom.

He spotted him, by a table, toying with a half empty glass, but didn't go there. Instead he made his way to the sign-up sheet for the open mic, begged until they let him and stepped on the stage. It felt weird stepping onto a stage after so many years.

He looked over to where Blaine was, about to take a drink when their eyes met. Blaine froze in place and Kurt had to muster up all of his strength just to talk "Hello…" Now or never "My… My name is Kurt Hummel" he didn't take his eyes off Blaine's for a moment, he needed to know that this was meant for him, not for anyone else – for Blaine alone "And I would like to dedicate this song to… someone who is… a little cruel and a lot right."

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_

_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

_Black bird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_

_all your life_

_you were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night._

He finished, feeling nervous, mostly about the meaning behind Blaine's wide eyes and gaping mouth than how tense he may have sounded, how hesitant the whole thing might have been. He stepped off the stage, barely registering the applause – the loud applause – and made straight for Blaine. He stopped right by the table, Blaine looked completely awestruck. He put down the wallet – his chest tight with nerves – and managed "I'm sorry."

"P-Kurt! Wait!"

"Just… look into that." Kurt muttered, afraid that if he tried any louder his voice might break. It was all he could do to make himself walk away "I'll… I'll go now."

_He needs to think, he needs to know what he wants, he needs to weigh his options._

He thought over and over in his hands as he walked the cold streets of New York only to find himself staring at Blaine's front door. He couldn't bring himself to leave.

He sat there, on the steps to the building, and tried to keep hands warm as he waited. It was a long wait and his nerves and his fears came and went in harsh revolted waves._ I shouldn't be here. He needs to think. I should go. Kurt, get up! Get up, Kurt!_

He was about to, when a taxi stopped right by Kurt and a man stepped out. Kurt looked up to find Blaine looking at him. He shot to his feet. "I… I was gonna wait… till Monday. To… To give you time to think. But." _God, what am I even saying?_ "I cou- I did- I… I'm here." Kurt gave up. There was no reason behind his actions – just will, just feelings.

"I want to help you." Blaine smiled, stepping closer.

_No, NO! That's not it! _"I don't… I don't want that."

"I know. But I do." Kurt felt as Blaine's fingers pushed his chin upwards and he found himself staring into Blaine's golden eyes, filled with warmth and care and patience "I want to help you. I'm doing it because I want to. Not because you asked, which you didn't. It's what I want."

"You barely know me. How can…"

"It's just a leap of faith. And it's just one date." Blaine shrugged so calm and collected Kurt wondered of it was an act "What's the worst thing that could happen? It's good and we have to go on a second…?"

Kurt couldn't hold back a laugh and for the way Blaine's face lit up it was well worth it "Thank you."

"Anytime…"

"I saw you sing, yesterday… You're amazing. I… Kind of wanted to talk to you, then… But I didn't know what to say… so I left, and I went home and I thought about it… And I wrote you that note… so. Yeah." He finished lamely, wishing he had better words to express his feelings.

"What… What made you change your mind?"

"It's… It's not worth it." Kurt said, deciding to come clean about anything and everything "Living this half life just because things end badly sometimes… It's not worth it. I'm still scared. All the time. And I'm still setting myself up for failure all the same… when I don't try to get a job, because I know I'm not good enough… when I go on a date with a jackass because I know I won't be the one to screw that up… When… Well… I'm just failing on purpose instead of trying to succeed and maybe, eventually failing. It's just as bad and it's not worth it." He looked at Blaine's eyes, they were like a safe harbor and he found himself holding onto the warmth they gave him. He smiled, feeling warmer by the second "You're kind of… You're kind of my fresh start."

Blaine nodded and extended a hand towards Kurt "Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson, you have the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen and I would be delighted if you'd join me for dinner some time."

Kurt laughed again, and it felt so good. It felt so right to do it. He'd laughed more in the last two days then he had in two years. "Well, huh, Blaine." He tried to tease, but all he wanted was really to throw his arms around his neck and hold him tightly and smile until his cheeks ached. Instead he picked up his pen from his pocket "Let me just…" He reached for Blaine's arm, pushed the layers of clothes back to reveal his skin and wrote his number on it "This is my number." He wrote his name _Kurt, a.k.a Pretty Blue Eyes_ underneath it with butterflies in his stomach "Call me. _Soon_."

"I will!"

"Great!"

Kurt spun around trying his best not to twirl, though, and couldn't keep his smile off his face even if he tried (he didn't). He was having a hard time resisting to look back when his cell rang and he laughed again, and oh god, how good did that feel?

"Hello, who is this?" he answered, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Hi, Kurt? This is Blaine… From the bus… remember? You fell on me…?"

"Hummm I think I remember…" He mused, continuing his walk, spring in his step.

"I was calling to now if you'd like to go to dinner, this Friday night. I'd pick you up, at… say… six o'clock?"

"I…" _would go out with you right now if you wanted!_ "Alright. Sounds good." He beamed.

"Oh, also…" He heard the steps before he realized what was happening "Could you please turn around?" Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder, just as he turned.

Before he knew it, Blaine's lips were on his, and he didn't even have time to brace himself, to stop his easy laughter, to manage his smile. They were soft and _there_, and Blaine's hands were holding Kurt's face just in place, and Kurt needed a moment just to let it sink in that this was real, this was happening. And Blaine was moving, and maybe he was pulling away, but Kurt didn't want that, he didn't want that at all, so he closed his eyes and forgot all about the cell phone on his hand, or the breath he'd been holding, and wrapped his arms around Blaine, burying his hands in his hair, just to make sure he didn't disappear. He felt Blaine's gentle hands on his neck, he felt them brush at the nape of his hair, and maybe it was that, maybe it was the kiss, maybe it was everything, but he felt a shiver, and he felt his knees weaken, and he felt everything he'd never felt before and he wondered if this was what they called pure bliss.

He smiled as he pulled away.

"Sorry about that…" Blaine was smiling too, his eyes shining brightly the way Kurt loved "couldn't really help myself there…"

"My fault, really, I did come onto you awfully hard." how he managed that moment of wit collected charm he wasn't sure and, but he wasn't worried about that, because all he knew was that a colony of butterflies had lodged themselves on his stomach and he strangely wasn't worried about it – in fact, he rather liked it. He dove for a quick kiss, short, amused and fun, before ducking to catch his cell phone not even bothering to assess damage "I need to go, now." He beamed, trying not to laugh at himself, and starting to walk away but having a hard time looking anywhere other than Blaine's grinning face "Before I embarrass myself any further. I haven't… I haven't been happy in a while, and I'm not sure I know how." He smiled.

"You seem to be doing just fine." Blaine called after him.

"You're too nice. And adorable... and gorgeous..." Kurt clapped both hands over his mouth, blocking out a string of other adjectives – _and perfect, and a really good kisser, and sweet, and sexy, and charming, and all that is good in the world_. He waited until he knew he wouldn't say something incredibly dorky before calling out "And I'll just go now! I'll see you Friday!"

"I CAN'T WAIT!"

He'd barely rounded the corner when his cell buzzed with a new text. Kurt barely registered the small scrapes on the screen.

_Thanks for giving me my wallet back, too, btw. I like this one a lot better. – B_

_What do you mean? It's hideous! Your new one is much nicer – it's real leather and it's a much nicer color. It's real light too! I'll keep this one instead. Win-win. (I can't wait either) – K_

**xXxXxXx**

**I might write their first date? Would you like that or something else? Some people suggested, I might take that suggestion. If so, whose perspective?**

**Tootles!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, so well: here goes the epilogue/last chapter in the form of their first date. Hopefully it won't disappoint. Please tell what you thought about it :)**

**xXxXxXxXxXxXx**

So tomorrow… - B

What about tomorrow, Blaine? – K

Do you have a preference? Ideas? Suggestions? – B

Given the way we met it almost seems criminal (aha, get it?) to suggest something as conventional as dinner, but honestly I'd really like just to have a chance to talk to you, so maybe dinner would be nice. Would that be ok? – K

Well, I've turned a blind eye on crime before, I could manage that again (aha, I got it!). There's this place I've been dying to try anyway. Do you want to meet there, or do you want me to pick you up (which I'm not sure how would work cuz my car's in the shop for the second time in two months! Argh!)? – B

Let's just meet there. I have classes till five, though. So maybe seven? Seven thirty? – K

Seven thirty's better, actually. I have to help a friend out after lunch and I'm not sure how long that'll take. Thanks! And you have classes, hey? So what do you study? – B

Isn't tomorrow supposed to be about that kind of 'getting to know' each other stuff? Don't burn through all our conversational topics yet! – K

Ah, I don't think that'll be an issue, between you stealing my wallet and me actually being interested in you rather than offended I'm sure we can make interesting conversation. Besides, I'm awkward enough to make cards with questions and topics in case all goes wrong. Would that make you feel better? – B

Well, you might have a point there. And that would make me feel a little bit better, yes, if not just because it'd be amusing if you actually did it. (and I study fashion design) – K

Consider it done! ;) (now I'm scared about what I'll wear… will you judge me harshly?) – B

I'm judging you on that winky face right there, so I don't see how you can make it any worse. Besides, I might not be a big fan of preppy, but so long as you stay clear of GAP stores (GAP, Blaine, really? GAP?) I'll cut you some slack (mainly because *blushing* I might actually like the way you look regardless of how preppy it is) – K

I had a crush at the junior manager a few years back, I never got around to throwing that card out. As you may have noticed, I never got around to throwing ANYthing out. I've stopped going to the GAP ever since he shot me down, tho. And that makes me feel a lot better. It goes without saying, but I love the way you look, too. – B

I said like, not love, Blaine, hold your horses! *joke* - K

Horses held! Sorry, I got excited! *I know, don't worry* - B

xXxXx

Blaine shifted nervously from one foot to another as he waited, cold wind slapping his face violently. He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his eyes looking at every direction, zoning in whenever any tall, lean figure would start approaching. He checked his watch and his phone. _19:33_

He looked around again, to find what he was sure to be Kurt rounding the corner at the end of the block. He had his hands deep in his pockets, but his posture was as flawless and dignified as ever, and the fitted coat kept his figure intact.

Blaine found himself sighing with relief – he hadn't realized how much he'd been dreading to be stood up. With a wide grin, he raised his hand in greeting and waved, though slightly less pathetically than usual. Kurt's hand raised in greeting as well, but he was still too far for Blaine to tell if he was smiling. That and he had his nose and mouth buried under a light blue scarf. Blaine had to control himself not to start walking towards Kurt, because that would have been ridiculous, and _oh… so much for self control._

"Hi!" he breathed, beaming as he stopped right in front of Kurt.

"Hey!" Kurt smiled, pulling the scarf away, just enough to reveal his pink nose and lips, his breath coming out in puffs "Why are you outside? It's freezing, come on!" He placed a hand on Blaine's arm and steered him around towards the restaurant.

"I was just…" he started, but realized there was really no way he could spin this and not sound insane "I really don't know why I was outside… I guess… it'd be less embarrassing if you'd stand me up if I wasn't sitting alone at a table looking at my glass of wine for an hour and a half." He shrugged.

Kurt halted slightly to look confusedly at Blaine for a second "Stand you up?" he repeated, frowning, as he resumed walking again "You think I'd stand you up?"

"Well… I was afraid you would. I didn't think you would. It's different. And you have to cut me some slack, given the… circumstances."

"Me stealing your wallet?" Kurt offered shrugging calmly, and Blaine wondered if his nonchalance was genuine. Probably not. There was an edge to Kurt's smile.

"You playing hard to get." Blaine corrected, feeling the least bit in control of himself for the first time, amused and somewhat comforted by the fact that Kurt was nervous as well.

"Oh!" Kurt sighed, and Blaine knew he'd been right "Yes, well… Like I said, new life, new beginning, all that jazz." He shrugged as they reached the restaurant and he opened the door, holding it so Blaine could pass.

"Thanks."

"And, huh, Blaine…" Kurt grabbed Blaine's coat, pausing them right at the door, where they had some semblance of privacy "I… I really did mean it, the other day. I really like you. I'm not playing any games here, so… huh… yeah." He finished with a half hearted smile, and a shrug, his cheeks red (though that might still be because of the cold outside).

"I like this version of you." Blaine smiled simply, barely even registering what he'd said. He wondered why his cheeks weren't suddenly burning with the heat of a thousand suns.

"What? What version?" Kurt's eyes were big and expecting, halfway between fearful and hopeful, and Blaine almost wanted to kiss them, closing them, appeasing them.

It dawned on Blaine that he didn't really mind being this open with Kurt. Maybe it was the fact that Kurt had made so many mistakes before that he just _had to_ understand and forgive Blaine for not being the smoothest of dates. Besides, it wasn't like Kurt didn't know Blaine was, at least, a little bit crazy for him already. "The honest, genuine one. Not the one who's trying to keep a poker face 24/7. That guy's hot, and mysterious, and sure, he gets himself the attention he wants. But this guy's real, and so much more authentic and… here. This is the guy I want to have dinner with, Kurt…"

"Oh…" Blaine held his gaze, until the very moment Kurt dropped it, biting his lip and blinking fast. _Either I said something really right, or something really wrong._

"Come on, let's go find a table…" he said softly, offering Kurt the chance to not continue the subject "Table for two, please." He smiled at the waitress. She nodded and led them to an isolated table at a corner and Blaine could hug her right then.

She smiled tightly as they stripped their coats and took their seats "I'll be right back with your menus."

"Thanks!" he beamed, and they both watched her nod and leave "Awesome table!" he chirped.

Kurt chuckled and nodded "So tell me, Blaine, did you bring the cards?"

"Yes!" he grinned triumphantly, reaching at once for his coat pocket and pulling out an assortment of pink and purple cards.

He looked up to find Kurt's eyes wide open and his mouth agape, and after a second he shook his head and laughed "Pink and purple, Blaine?"

"Well, huh…" he scratched the back of his neck "I wish I had a better and funnier reason for it, other than it really was what I could gather in such short notice."

"I love them." Kurt smiled sweetly, extending his hand for them "Let me see!" Blaine sighed, feeling a little relieved as he handed them over "Oh, they could have used a little glitter at least, Blaine!"

"I'll keep that in mind for next time…" He chuckled as he watched Kurt checking the questions and safe conversational topics Blaine could think of the night before. He had his eyebrow quirked, a small smirk playing the corner of his lip, and his eyes were positively twinkling with delight. _You did good, Blaine, you did good._

"Oh, let's see… Where am I from…?" He twirled the card between his fingers as he looked up to meet Blaine's eager eyes "I'm from Ohio. Born and raised, I came here three years ago."

"Ohio? Really? So am I!" Blaine beamed "I grew up in Westerville."

"Oh, we were neighbors, I'm from Lima." Kurt flipped through the cards mind absently as he spoke "So I guess we both know what it's like to live in deep despair and suffocation."

"Well, yeah, New York was definitely a breath of fresh air. I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's home. Ohio never felt like home. I mean, high school wasn't bad – actually it might have been the best time of my life – but I just didn't feel like I belonged there. I had to try too hard."

Kurt chuckled bitterly and nodded "Oh, high school…! That was fun."

"Oh?" Blaine almost wanted Kurt to drop the subject, to shy away from it. He wanted this date to be happy, nothing but happiness. But he couldn't not ask.

"Oh you know… Being the only guy out of the closet at my school put one too many bruises on me. Though, I guess it was mostly emotional bullying. And there was that time I was stupid enough to actually confront the worst of them all, and got a mouthful of his tongue before I could even register what was happening."

"You mean… he…?"

"The big strong jock was actually gay, and wanted to test it out on me, apparently. Not my best memory. Definitely not how I pictured my first kiss with a boy." He shrugged and smiled bitterly, trying and failing to brush it off.

"I'm sorry…" Blaine sighed, noticing Kurt's hands fidgeting with the cards, and reaching out to run a soothing thumb over them.

"Not your fault…"

"Still, I'm sorry you had a hard time in high school, and that you had your first kiss stolen. It's not ok, and you shouldn't have to act like it is." Blaine insisted, not averting his eyes from Kurt's "If it makes you feel any better, my first kiss was a failure of colossal magnitude."

Kurt perked up slightly, his lips turning into a small teasing smirk "Do tell!"

Blaine sighed, regretting his momentary lapse of judgment for saying that. But anything to get a smile back on Kurt's lips "Well, with a boy anyway… I was a sophomore in High School. It was senior Prom night and my friend and I were really bitter about not being there, so we got drunk off my dad's liquor cabinet." Kurt smiled and nodded as if he was saying 'of course!', so Blaine continued "And -I should say upfront, even if we were both gay we never really liked each other that way, Thad and I were just really good friends – so, we got drunk…"

"And made out…? That's not colossally bad. That's just a waste of what should be a very romantic opportunity…"

"No, no, hang on. It's not over." Blaine laughed "No, so we were drunk and whining about being too young for Prom, and even if we were old enough what would be the point of going alone and 'oh god, why aren't there any other gay guys available!' and then it struck us we were both gay and 'oh my god, why didn't we ever think of this?' and then he suggested we'd kiss. So I lean over, he leans over – by this time we're so drunk we nearly fell as we went for it – and then our lips touch and the moment they do I barf."

"Oh." Kurt half gasps, half laughs "Oh, alright… colossal indeed."

"Yeah…" Blaine chuckled "I got vomit all over him, and then he got grossed out so of course he barfed too… and we spent the rest of the night cleaning vomit off my mother's favorite carpet."

"Well…" Kurt smirked "If it makes you feel any better, I know for a fact that story does not do justice to your kissing abilities."

Blaine blushed, his eyes having a hard time deciding whether to stay on Kurt's flirting gaze or jump to his own hands nervously fumbling with his plate.

He hard Kurt's light laughter, musical, lyrical "You're too cute…!"

"Well, huh, thanks…" he mumbled, looking up to find Kurt's chin resting on his hand, as he smiled teasingly.

"Anytime…" he shrugged, leaning back to sit straight again. Their eyes lingered on each other until a figured breezed by and Kurt was suddenly looking away "Excuse me, miss!" he called after the waitress.

"Yes, sir?" She prompted, as soon as she'd stopped and turned. She looked mildly annoyed, and Blaine wondered how stressful it must be to wait tables.

"Could you please bring us the menus…? My date is quite hungry and he's very eager to taste some of your, I'm sure, exquisite food. So…"

"Of course. I'll be right back." She pursed her lips and Blaine could almost see her effort not to roll her eyes. He turned to Kurt as she walked away with a slight frown on his face.

Kurt looked slightly amused "Someone's having a bad day." He chuckled before picking up another card "So, topic number two is… the weather…?"

"I made that one as a joke! I swear!" Blaine was quick to raise his hands in surrender, but laughed as soon as he saw Kurt's teasing smile. He leaned over the table, dropping his tone a little "So,… the winter, hey?"

Kurt hid his face as he bit back laughter before moving his hands away to look back at Blaine (and Kurt had never looked so beautiful before, all smiles and light musical laughter, bright eyes and flushed cheeks, bashful and teasing at the same time), he moved his hand to cup his cheek, dropping his head a little to his right, and leaned forward as well "It's been awfully windy, hasn't it?" his voice was almost as low as Blaine's and Blaine must really suck at hiding his surprise because Kurt's laughing again.

They're briefly interrupted as the waitress wordlessly hands them their menus, and turns on her heel, walking briskly away. They share another confused look, this one slightly less amused before flipping open their menus. Blaine scans through it, having his usual debate – flavor vs. attractiveness while eating.

He discards anything that might make a mess of things, settling on a simple tortellini dish. As he lowers his menu he finds Kurt already looking at him, hands neatly folded over his own. Blaine blushes slightly – _damn you, Blaine, keep your cool!_ – and smiles "What…?"

"Oh, nothing…" Kurt shrugged "You looked particularly endearing, concentrating so hard on your menu."

"Oh…" _Ok, Blaine, think, think, think! Think before you say anything stupid _"I was mostly just trying to choose something that won't make me look like an infant eating." _What the fuck is wrong with you?_

Kurt's eyebrows shoot up and his smile broadens and Blaine wants to hide himself in a deep dark cave and never come back again "Good to know." He nods, still looking much too amused for Blaine's liking.

He snatches one card off the table. "What did you really wanna be when you grew up?"

"A Broadway star…" Kurt smiles "Well, there was that time when I was five and wanted to be a unicorn, but other than that I wanted to be a singer till senior year, which was when I realized my true passion was fashion."

The conversation was briefly interrupted as the waitress came back to collect their menus and place their orders, barely uttering one words besides "What will it be?".

"That is one lousy waitress." Kurt commented, before shaking his head and beaming again "And you?"

"My best was to be a cashier at the supermarket." Blaine said simply, proud of himself to be regaining some sort of control over things, his words and his usual sense of humor.

Kurt's eyebrows shot up "What?" he gasped with a laugh.

"Something about the cash register machine fascinated me…" Blaine shrugged, smiling "and the buttons, and the neatness of it all."

They talked for a long while, until their food came and even then they just continued talking as they ate and drank. Somewhere along the middle of their dinner Blaine realized it'd been a while since he cursed himself for saying something stupid. Replaying most of the things he'd said in he realized it wasn't for a lack of face palm worthy material, it was literally because he was so comfortable and at ease he'd forgotten to care. Kurt himself looked increasingly at ease as well, laughing and throwing Blaine a teasing compliment every once in a while. It was a lot like that night they'd walked and talked for hours and Blaine was thrilled that said night hadn't been exactly misleading.

"I cannot believe your brother is Cooper Anderson!" Kurt gasped "I used to have such a crush on him!"

"Ah…" Blaine chuckled "Remind me not to introduce you…"

"I used to think he was the handsomest man in all of North America, Blaine."

Blaine half snorted. It'd stopped stinging a long time ago – he hadn't felt jealous of his brother in years, since he realized Cooper's life wasn't all he cranked it up to be – so he was, surprisingly, highly amused at Kurt's infatuation. "I'll make sure the fan mail reaches its destination…"

"Oh, no!" Kurt smiled "No fan mail, no… I said used to, Blaine. Well, he's still incredibly handsome, no doubt. But no crush whatsoever. Thanks, though."

"It's fine. I used to be jealous, but how can you envy someone who's never sure whether people love him for who he is or for what he is…?" Blaine shrugged, before removing his napkin from his lap "Will you excuse me a sec, though? I need to use the restroom."

Kurt smiled and nodded as Blaine put down his fork and knife and controlled himself not to sprint for the restroom. He'd been wanting to go since before the food arrived, but between the conversation flowing so easily and the delicious food he'd kept pushing it and pushing it, and now his bladder was about to burst.

He sighed with happiness as he peed (glad that there was no one around to witness it or it would've been terribly creepy) and once he was finished he washed his hands thoroughly. As he stepped out, careful to close the door quietly, rather than let it slam, a female voice caught his attention as a word spilled out that Blaine was all too tuned to hear.

"… fags sitting over there by the corner… I mean, come on! How much more obvious can you get, right? I just want to spill their drinks all over them, you know? Parading themselves around like that...! If I coul Id have put them in the fucking pantry! Corner table was the best I could do, though… Gosh! Fucking fags…"

Blaine was livid, he recognized the voice as their waitress. He was pretty certain his face had been wiped of any color, and he wasn't sure exactly how he made his way back to their table, but his legs must've had a mind of their own, and he found himself slipping back into his seat.

"What's wrong?" Kurt frowned, leaning over slightly, his hand reaching towards Blaine's but stopping halfway. Blaine couldn't be bothered to notice it, to smile and meet Kurt's hand halfway, assure him that the gesture was more than welcome.

"I… huh…" _Where to start? Do I even tell him? Why should I? It'll just ruin his evening, too? But I want to tell him! God, I want to tell him so bad, because I know he'll find a way to make me feel better… _"The waitress… I overheard her talking… she was… she was calling us fags. Saying she just wanted to spill our drinks all over us, and… I'm sorry I let it get to me like that, it's just… it's been a while since the last time I had to deal with…"

"Idiots?" Kurt offered.

"Homophobic idiots."

"Right…" Kurt eyed him carefully. When Blaine didn't say anything else – because, really, what was there to say? – he sighed "So, what do you want to do?"

"What do you mean, what do I want to do?"

"About this… situation? Personally, I'd like to ask for the manager, even if with my luck she was talking to the manager …"

"Oh… I don't… I don't know." Blaine shook his head defeated. It'd really been such a long time since he'd been faced with a situation like this, and a longer time since he fought back "I don't… maybe we could just ask for the check, pay up and leave, go somewhere else, walk, talk… it was going really well, anyway, I'm sorry I even got this upset."

"Nonsense, Blaine." Kurt said, half sternly, half sweetly "You surely aren't expecting to pay for your meal after that, are you?"

"What do you mean? You wanna bail without paying?" Blaine gasped. The possibility exciting him almost as much as it terrified him.

"Well, actually I was thinking more on the lines of telling the manager, or someone that we refuse payment because of homophobic treatment, but that'll do." He shrugged, as if it was the most logic suggestion.

"I… We… You… No!" Blaine gasped "We can't! What if we get caught?"

Kurt's lips slowly turned into a smirk "Blaine… Have you never walked out of a restaurant without paying?"

"I… Huh… No." He admitted lamely.

"Alright." He beamed "Blaine Anderson, my name is Kurt Hummel and I am here to help you experience the thrill of a life time." he sniggered "No, really, come on, Blaine. She's an ass, and not saying or doing anything will enable her behavior. That's not right."

"But… hum… if we get caught…?"

"We won't…" Kurt smirked "Listen, I got it, ok? Can you trust me with this? We won't get caught, and if we do, which we won't, I promise I'll say it was all me. I'll say I told you I'd paid already or something, I promise you. But I cannot, and will not, stand here and let that woman insult you and walk away." Blaine refrained from pointing out that she'd insulted Kurt just as much, it seemed irrelevant to the subject at hand, but he filed those words away as precious information anyway, because Kurt – maybe, probably, unknowingly – seemed more preoccupied about Blaine's feelings than anything else.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Blaine." He smiled "When was the last time you got back at someone, hey?"

Blaine sighed "I don't know." He shrugged "Maybe when I brought home a boyfriend, last summer."

"How's that payback?" Kurt frowned.

"I may have known my father's associates would be over for a few drinks that evening. And I might have known that my father still told his associates I was dating a lovely girl and working up the nerve to propose."

"Oh!" Kurt's eyebrows rose "So you do have some fight in you!" He grinned.

Blaine smiled to himself, _yeah, yeah I do…! _"Ok, alright. I'm in." he grinned "But we eat desert first. The most expensive you can find on the menu, and we make out when she brings it over."

"Atta boy!"

xXxXxXx

The restaurant door clicked shut behind him and Kurt could feel Blaine's tight grip on his hand. He kept his pace slow and steady, holding onto Blaine's hand, forcing him to stay at his side. They had barely walked six feet before Kurt gave into Blaine wordless pleading and took off sprinting, their hands still clasped together.

Over the sounds of a busy city night their loud laughter rung clear and foreign, and every head would turn to watch as they ran by, barely breathing. After two entire blocks Kurt couldn't run anymore – his lungs felt like they'd caught fire and every breath he took seemed too painful. And yet he couldn't stop laughing "I can't… Blaine, I can't!" he gasped out, coming to a halt, and collapsing against a wall, closing his eyes and trying to take in deep breaths. He heard Blaine's breathless chuckles as he stopped as well "God… I'm not equipped for th-"

Kurt's voice was silenced by lips pressed tightly against his, a hand coming up to card long, firm fingers through his hair, and another to hold his jaw, keeping his face in place. Blaine's kiss had nothing and everything to do with the one he'd sprung on Kurt as unexpectedly those couple of nights ago. It was the same lips, and – _oh god_ – the same tongue, and the same hands. But there wasn't much of the shyness and hesitance that had colored that first kiss this time. This times it was all red – this kiss was made of flames, because all there was to it was passion and urgency. Between their sprint and this kiss Kurt couldn't be sure if he would ever breathe again, and Blaine's mouth felt so good, and his tongue tasted like perfection, and Kurt couldn't care less if he'd breathe or suffocate. He didn't even think before his arms had wound themselves around Blaine's waist, pulling him closer, fingers digging into thick fabric instead of skin and he groaned in frustration as Blaine pulled slightly back, sucking on Kurt's lower lip, biting softly between lunging forward again to run a soothing tongue over the offended skin.

"Blaine, blaine, blaine, blaine, blaine…" he mumbled, as Blaine's lips dragged over Kurt's jaw and neck, sucking, kissing and biting, his breath heavy, though not from running anymore. He couldn't stop mumbling Blaine's name, because that was the only thing he could do to remind him that this was still Blaine, this was still the man that not ten minutes ago had blushed as Kurt told the waitress Blaine's eyes should've been dubbed the first wonder of the world; this was the same man that Kurt had honestly thought had 'no game' whatsoever the first time they ever met; this was the same man that had kissed him so sweetly not half a week ago.

Kurt had never met this Blaine before. It reminded Kurt that he'd yet to meet a lot of sides to Blaine. But, most importantly, it reminded Kurt that every side left to discover, could be the next great thing. Because Kurt was really fond of this Blaine. This Blaine was awesome. This Blaine reduced Kurt to words like awesome.

This Blaine was one kiss away from giving Kurt an erection in the middle of the street.

"Blaine, wait… wait." He gasped, pulling his hands from the back pockets of Blaine's jeans, where they had found themselves, and resting them against Blaine's chest, pushing lightly against it.

Blaine pulled away, eyes wide and searching, his lips red and swollen and _jesus fucking christ this is the most glorious sight I've ever seen!_ "yeah…?"

"I… we're in the middle of the street, Blaine." Kurt half sighed, half chuckled.

"I really want to say 'to hell with that…'" Blaine smiled, his breathing still erratic and heavy.

"God, I really want you to….!" Kurt whined, sagging slightly against Blaine and feeling as he laughed slightly.

"Alright, alright…!" Blaine chuckled "I'm sorry I got a little carried away… It's just…" he took a long breath "I don't even know what came over me, but I don't think I've felt this alive in a long time… I just… I needed you to know that." He finished, his eyes finding Kurt's, and Kurt really did think they were the first wonder.

"Know what?"

"That you make me feel like that." He reached a hand to Kurt's cheek and touched his fingers lightly to it and even if it was just the simplest of touches, compared to what had happened just a minute ago, it still felt charged with a thousand feelings and emotions "You said you wanted to help me, too… Well, you are. You should know that."

Kurt smiled, feeling his eyes burning slightly and not caring at all "I like this guy, too." He said, honesty burning inside of him, like it had all night, and it felt good on this winter's night so he fed that flame, and he kept on feeding it. Every time he would, he'd hope it wouldn't burn him, and it never did.

"What guy is that?"

"The guy that wears his heart on his sleeve. The guy that still believes in people, even though he had every reason not to. The guy that somehow manages to be sweet and sexy, goofy and charming, naïve and so, so wise." Kurt smiled "And I'm really glad I met him, because he makes me feel alive as well."

Blaine beamed before going in for another kiss, this less urgent, less hungry, but just as charged, and just as promising. A kiss that was halfway between their first and second. A third kiss that was just as perfect as any of the other two. They moved their lips against one another, slowly and tenderly, and Kurt felt Blaine's hands coming up to cup his face, to hold him there, making him feel so safe and treasured that it was almost overwhelming. He spread his fingers across Blaine's chest.

Blaine pulled back with a wide smile.

"And I really like this guy with the most amazing eyes, and heart-stopping smile…" Kurt added.

"Yours aren't so bad either." Blaine teased, bumping their shoulders together as he reached for Kurt's hand and laced their fingers "So, what do you want to do?"

"I'd be happy with anything, but mostly I just want to be somewhere where we can talk… so… maybe no bars or clubs…? And no movies either…?"

"Sounds good to me…" Blaine shrugged "How about we walk?"

"You can walk me home." Kurt suggested "It's not particularly close, but I…"_ go on Kurt, you've been doing good all night, and you haven't regretted it once _"don't want tonight to end…"

Blaine looked at him in silence, those bright hazel eyes honest in their smile. He raised their intertwined hands and brushed his lips against Kurt's knuckles. After a moment of peaceful silence he finally spoke "It doesn't have to…"

"It kind of does." Kurt winced "Rachel's probably home anyway…"

"Rachel…?"

"My… best friend…? I guess. Yeah, she's my best friend. I moved in with her just this week, actually. Left my old roommate. He was an ass. I hate him, he hated me, and… Well, he's part of that time in my life I'm not too proud of."

"Oh…?"

"He's the one who got me to start stealing people's wallets actually…" Kurt shrugged, not sure if he really wanted to talk about his. He knew they would, at some point. It was a conversation that was bound to happen sooner or later. But this was a first day – a very good first date. And he was sure there would be a second date, and a third date, and fourth and fifth,… and maybe they could leave this conversation to their thirtieth date…?

"So, he basically introduced us…" Blaine smirked, and Kurt laughed at the thought because that was about right, and _oh, the irony!_

"I do love a good ironic twist!" Kurt sighed.

They walked calmly towards Kurt's new home, and all the while they talked and laughed, and never once let go of each other's hands. When Blaine promised that he would let Kurt take him shopping one of these days it was Kurt's turn to throw his arms around him and kiss him senseless. And then, Blaine had been a little to enraptured by Kurt's blushing smile and distractedly stepped on dog poop, Kurt had doubled over laughing and Blaine was almost too embarrassed to do anything but frantically try to wipe his shoe on the pavement.

When they reached the landing Kurt couldn't bring himself to say goodbye.

"Do you want to come up…?" he mumbled against Blaine's lips, his arms around Blaine's shoulders pulling him towards the front door.

"I thought you said Rachel would be home…" Blaine frowned but smiled, pulling back a little.

"She will" Kurt nodded "But why should that mean anything. She's actually really nice – a little intense, and maybe annoying – but she's nice. And we could talk or watch a movie, maybe the three of us, maybe she'd just go to her room, maybe we could both go to my room and not have sex because I just now she would scream the minute she heard so much as a sigh from us… but… we can still have a good time. So… come up.."

Kurt watched as Blaine's smile grew and he nodded "Ok…"

Kurt beams and kisses him again, hard and quick before turning to shove his keys in the door and push it open. They go inside the building and sigh at the almost warmth inside as they wait for the old elevator to come crackling down. "I'm almost scared to use it…" Kurt admits as they climb inside.

"So if she's your best friend why didn't you move in earlier…?"

"Long story…" Kurt sighed "It's not that I don't want you to know… It's just that's it's a long story, and it's not very happy, and we've got time for it. So… not tonight…?"

"That's perfectly fine." Blaine reassured him with a smile, and Kurt laces their fingers back together and the elevator rings and opens its rusty old doors.

"So, I apologize in advance for anything you might find in there." Kurt warned as he put his brand new keys to the lock and turned. Immediately they were met with Barbra Streisand's voice accompanied by Rachel's, just as loud. Kurt walked carefully towards the sound to find Rachel singing passionately to her hair brush in front of her mirror and _oh, how I've missed your insanity!_

He laughs "Hey Rach!"

She drops her hair brush and presses her hands to her chest with a little yelp "Oh god, Kurt!" she gasped "You scared me! I keep forgetting you live here now!"

"Hmmm… I'd like you to meet someone, Rachel." Kurt reached for her hand and she smiled immediately, already guessing the name. "Rachel, this is Blaine, Blaine this is my friend Rachel."

"Hello, Rachel. It's very nice to meet you. And I'm terribly sorry if we're interrupting anything." He smiled, all polite charm and suaveness and Kurt wonders where this person came from, and he finds it amusing more than anything "Your voice is spectacular, by the way!"

"Why thank you!" Rachel beamed and turned to Kurt "Ooh, I like him! Can we keep him?"

Kurt exchanged an amused glance with Blaine and blushed slightly as he shrugged and smiled "I certainly hope so."

"Well," Rachel turned back to Blaine "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot."

"Only good things, I hope…" Blaine said in his charming tone, but Kurt heard the edge to it, and almost rolled his eyes at the mere thought that Kurt would've had anything less than _nice_ to say about Blaine.

"I'd say wonderful, actually." She giggled, and Kurt shot her a glare "Woudl you like something to drink? Or perhaps eat?"

"I could go with something to drink, yes, thank you, Rachel, if it's not too much trouble, of course."

Kurt frowned at Blaine mouthing 'who are you?' and Blaine's polite smile broke into a grin and he shrugged "Too many years of country clubs, I guess." He whispered as they followed Rachel towards the living room.

"What would you like? Wine? Juice? Water?"

"Hummm, would it be terribly imposing if I said wine?" Blaine shot Kurt a teasing smile and Kurt just grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the couch the smallest couch. They sat with their thighs and arms pressed together.

"I want some too, Rach."

Rachel nodded and she popped open a bottle and poured red wine into large glasses "So, normally I'd only ask this to Kurt, but seeing as you're both here. Tell me boys, how was your date?"

They exchanged a glance, both blushing slightly.

"Wonderful." Blaine sighed.

"Perfect." Kurt shrugged, giddy with excitement.

Neither of them seemed to care that the other was just there right next to them. Mostly because they'd been planning to say these exact words the moment they somehow forced themselves to bid goodnight.

She beamed and handed them both their wine. "Lovely." She plopped down on the remaining couch, tucking her feet under her and sipping her wine even if she looked about five years younger just then "I have two gay dads, you know, Blaine? They're so fantastic! Best parents I could have dreamed of. So when the two of you need a surrogate do not hesitate!" she said enthusiastically.

Both of them widened their eyes and Kurt heard Blaine's nervous laugh "Rach, let's just get through the dating before we start thinking of children, shall we?"

Rachel gave out a cheerful laugh and shrugged before going on to question them about the circumstances in which they met. Somehow that ended up with Kurt teaching both Rachel and Blaine how to pick pockets. Blaine was terrible at it, but Kurt couldn't complain because that just meant he would have to take Blaine's hands in his and guide their movements. Every once in a while they would pause to exchange a glance, a smile, a touch, or even a kiss. Sometimes Kurt would find Rachel looking at them fondly and his heart would swell even more. He wondered if there was any way this night could be any better. He wondered when was the last time he'd felt this happy.

They had stopped practicing movements and were just lounging on the living room carpet, finishing off their bottle of wine and chatting happily about Broadway shows when Rachel yawned theatrically "Well, my dear boys, lovely as this is, I'm afraid I must hit the sack."

"It's not even midnight. It's Friday night, Rach." Kurt said, rather stupidly. Of course he wanted Rachel to go to bed. Even if the three of them were having a spectacular time.

"Yes, and I have Yoga class tomorrow morning."

"Oh, of course you'd take up Yoga!" Kurt laughed "Alright, we won't keep you up. Sweet dreams, Rach."

"Good night, Rachel, sleep well."

She smiled "We must do this again! I'm serious, the three of us should make this some tradition, I haven't had this much fun in a while. You're welcome anytime, Blaine. Even when Kurt's not around."

"Oh, wow! Thank you!" He smiled, his surprise and amazement all too clear, like a new world of friendship and acceptance was unraveling before him like presents on Christmas morning, and Kurt's love for Rachel tripled.

She leaned over and kissed Blaine's cheek, before kissing Kurt's forehead. Kurt reached for her hand and squeezed it in a silent thank-you.

"Nighty-night boys." She singsonged, leaving with a cheerful wave.

"I can see why you'd call her intense…" Blaine sighed "But I really liked her."

"Mmm… for me she was an acquired taste. Granted, she's changed a lot since high school. She was about as self-absorbed and obnoxious as they come." He laid down on the floor, grabbing a pillow from the couch and tucking it under his head. "We were in Glee club together… for three years. She took all the solos… that bitch!" he joked.

"Well, I like your voice better, but maybe I'm biased." Blaine smiled, laying down on his side, his head propped up against his hand.

"Yours isn't so bad either…" Kurt mused "Some group we'd make, the three of us."

"I'm getting some Singing in the Rain feelings, Kurt…" Blaine beamed.

"Yeah, me too. Maybe next time?"

"Definitely!"

"So there will be a next time?"

Blaine merely dipped his head towards Kurt's and brought their lips together in a lazy kiss "What do you think?" he teased as he pulled back.

"Honestly?" Kurt looked up, searching for Blaine's eyes, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be an open book to someone, but most of all to Blaine, because for the first time in his life he felt completely and utterly safe in doing so. Blaine's teasing smirk faded into an honest smile and that was all the answer Kurt needed before capturing Blaine's lips again "Honestly, I want a thousand more dates like this one, Blaine. Honestly, you're making me feel thinks I didn't know I could. Honestly, I feel like I can be whomever I want to be with you, and I want to be myself, and honestly, I feel like I can… I feel like I can be that and you'll stay. And I've never felt safer." He reached up for another long and lingering kiss before adding "And honestly, I just want you to feel the same way I do, I want to make you feel safe, too. Because you are, with me. You're safe."

"I do…" Blaine muttered "I do… I… I've never been this unafraid before, Kurt, and it's so good." He shuffled closer, reaching to brush Kurt's hair out of his forehead "And it's not just walking out that restaurant without paying… it's saying whatever the hell crosses my mind and knowing that you won't run for the hills, it's blushing and you thinking it's cute rather than childish, it's… it's knowing that I can be myself, too."

"I've never felt so scared and yet safe at the same time." Kurt laughed nervously "I'm scared because maybe we're rushing things, but I… I don't to move any slower, because the more I know the more I like you, and the less doubts I have about anything."

Blaine smiled and moved to rest his head on Kurt's chest, nuzzling into it, a finger drawing random patterns across his arm. After a while he simply muttered "I've never met someone like you, Kurt… And I feel like… I feel like I've been looking for you forever… And finally, god, _finally_, here you are… and god!" he sighed lifting his head and their eyes locked "I just… I think… you move me, Kurt… and I just want to spend time with you, for now. I don't even care how or when, or where…"

They share a soft, drawn out kiss before Blaine pulls back and smiles.

"So, what I meant to say is… I don't care whether we rush things or not. I just want them to happen… They'll take the time that they need to take." He shrugged, before dipping down to kiss Kurt again. His lips smooth and gentle.

They stayed like that for a long while, just kissing. Sometimes they would stop for a while, Blaine would rest his head on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt would run his fingers lazily through his curls and hum a few words to a song. It was nearly two am when Kurt heard a small snore from Blaine and he smile and scooted gently down .

"Blaine…" he ran a careful finger through Blaine's hairline.

"Mmmm?"

"Come to bed with me…, come on." He whispered gently.

"Comfortable here…"

"This is the floor, Blaine. Come with me to my bed."

Blaine's eyes snapped open at that and for a moment he seemed confused "But Rachel?"

Kurt laughed "_Sleep_ with me."

"Oh… ok." The hint of disappointment in Blaine's response was almost enough to make Kurt get up and make some coffee.

"The rest… we'll have plenty of time for… tomorrow morning, or whenever we do get around to it, Blaine, now you're barely keeping your eyes open, and I'd rather not have you fall asleep on me." Kurt chuckled.

Blaine smiled and nodded, nuzzling Kurt's chest again and holding on tightly "Ok…"

"Alright, so let's go…" Kurt laughed again, as Blaine merely strengthened his hold on Kurt's waist. Kurt shook his head and squirmed out of Blaine's arms only to wrap his own around him and haul him up. Blaine somehow managed to get to his feet and hold on to Kurt as they made their way to his bedroom.

The pair practically fell on Kurt's bed, and Kurt had to pry himself away from Blaine's arms once more so he could remove Blaine's shoes and jeans (why, yes, he did remove the jeans, but not because he was a pervert), before changing into his own pajamas and tucking them both in.

Blaine shuffled back towards Kurt, latching onto him and burying his face in the crook of his neck, taking a long, deep breath "Mmm, you smell so pretty…"

"Thank you, Blaine!" Kurt laughed, wrapping his arms around Blaine, keeping him as close as possible "You smell pretty too…"

"Mmm… It's gonna be so easy…" Blaine mumbled, lips dragging across Kurt's neck, and sending delicious shivers down his spine.

"What's going to be easy?"

"Falling in love with you…"

Kurt's heart skipped a beat and his breath caught and the whole world stopped. Maybe it was those mumbled words, maybe it was the way Blaine's lips felt against his skin, maybe it was the strong arms around his waist, maybe it was that Blaine really did smell divine, maybe it was all of that or none of that, but that very moment Kurt fell in love.


End file.
